


Returning, We Hear the Larks

by artofsilence



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War I, As in you will be boiled to death like a lobster Slow, Centaur Cassandra, Centaurs, F/F, F/M, Go read it it's very good, Human Rapunzel, M/M, Nurse Rapunzel, Slow Burn, Soldier Cassandra, This is a fic I joked about for months, This is mostly yearning, War Horse AU, and then I accidentally wrote it, extremely slow, kind of, many liberties were taken, others are just completely made up, pulls some elements from the book and movie, title is taken from a poem of the same name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artofsilence/pseuds/artofsilence
Summary: Death could drop from the darkAs easily as song—But song only dropped,Like a blind man's dreams on the sandBy dangerous tides;Like a girl's dark hair, for she dreams no ruin lies there,Or her kisses where a serpent hides.- Isaac Rosenburg, 'Returning, We Hear the Larks'♟This is the story of love and loss and reunion; and everything that lay in between.
Relationships: Cassandra/Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Lance Strongbow, Lady Caine & Cassandra (Disney: Tangled)
Comments: 63
Kudos: 66





	1. The Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are! I've got a good 95% of this story pre-drafted, so updates should be pretty consistently posted every weekend.

_‘The sun sank slow by the sweep of the hill,_

_They had carried all the hay,_

_And a blackbird sang by the window-sill,_

_And a girl knelt down to pray:_

_‘Keep Thou safe through the night, O Lord,_

_Whom Thou hast kept through the day.’_

_\- May Wedderburn Cannan, 'August 1914'_

♟ ♟ ♟

Cassandra really hated laundry.

The most prominent reason for this, of course, was that it was a long and tedious process to clean and fold it. The other reason was that it wanted to kill her. Quite literally. 

Cassandra growled as she fought with a skirt which had managed to wrap itself around her head, clearly having full intention to strangle her. Rapunzel would say that laundry couldn’t be actively malicious due to its sedentary nature. Cassandra begged to differ. Eventually she managed to tame the vicious cotton and fold it down into submission, pressing it into the laundry basket alongside its fellows. She stood huffing in the wake of her victory, and after a moment she registered a voice coming from behind her. 

“-oo much? ….Cass?”

Cassandra sighed and turned away from the clothesline. Rapunzel Der Sonne sat beneath an old cedar, a painting flipped around in her lap so that the picture faced away from her. She held the canvas on her knees and rested her chin across the top of it, looking hopefully up at Cassandra’s face.

Cassandra blinked. “Uh. Come again?”

Rapunzel rolled her eyes, fidgeting the sides of the canvas. “I was asking you what you think of it! Just enough yellow, or too much?”

Cassandra wiped her hands imperiously on her hips and moved up closer, bending down to get a better look. The rolling, deep-sunset field in the painting was a surreal interpretation of the one they stood in now; mellow and soft with a few strong trees guarding the countryside. She looked up, catching Rapunzel’s eager gaze. “It....almost looks like there could be more yellow, actually.”

“I knew it!” Rapunzel squealed triumphantly, flipping the painting around so quickly that Cassandra only narrowly avoided a smack to the jaw. She grabbed one of her paintbrushes, wiped it off on her towel, and set to work mixing up a soft yellow.

Cassandra smiled softly and returned to her folding; it would be all too easy to get caught up in Rapunzel’s enthusiasm, but she had a job to do. Raps made a few noises of excitement behind her, and occasionally Cassandra heard the hasty clatter of a paintbrush being switched out or cleaned.

Rapunzel’s intensity was in equal parts amusing and exhausting. Though humans in general always seemed to act with such emotional fervor that it appeared to affect their whole bodies, right down to their ears and noses, Rapunzel was certainly at the higher end of the enthusiasm scale. When she got like this her hands were often all jitters unless touching the canvas, and heavens forbid she try to walk like a normal person without skipping or stumbling–– though perhaps that part was understandable; humans were often quite ungainly on those two legs.

Of course, Cassandra wasn’t terribly graceful herself–– she was all leg, and had been since before she could remember. It had made getting work as a child incredibly difficult; the only jobs humans ever wanted centaurs for was plowing or carting or other manual labor that they couldn’t manage alone–– and all it took was one look at young Cassandra’s knobbly knees for them to turn her away at the door. Rapunzel’s parents were the only ones she’d ever met who were different.

Cassandra shook her head and fluffed one of Mr. Der Sonne’s big shirts, frowning up at the darkening sky. “You might want to hurry it up, Raps; it’s gonna be dark soon and I don’t want to be fishing you out of a wolf’s mouth.”

Rapunzel scoffed, gathering up her wind-buffeted ponytail and re-tying it behind her head. “It’s barely even sunset, Cass. We’ve got time. Besides, there’s not even any wolves out here.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that,” Cassandra grumbled, brushing a stray curl out of her face. “If I don’t get you _and_ this laundry inside by sundown, your parents will kill me.”

Rapunzel arched her brow and scoffed. “I don’t think either of my parents would _kill you,_ Cass.”

“You do _not_ know that,” Cassandra insisted, folding the last pair of breeches neatly into the basket and hoisting it up on her hip, “did you see the look your dad gave me yesterday after I broke his favorite vase?”

Rapunzel’s face screwed up in consideration as she stuffed a cork in one of her paint jars. “That wasn’t exactly a _murderous_ look. More of a…deeply, intensely frustrated one.”

“Rapunzel-”

“Okay! Okay, I’m cleaning up now.”

“ _Thank_ you.” Cassandra rolled her eyes and lashed her tail impatiently.

Rapunzel stood up with a groan and dusted off her skirt. She pressed a fingertip to her canvas, checking to make sure it was dry enough, before piling all her paint supplies atop it and hoisting the load into her arms. She tottered over to Cass with a mischievous look in her eyes, and before Cassandra could sidle away she dropped the canvas into her laundry basket and sprang away.

“Rapunzel! You can’t just-”

“Last one to the bridge has to carry it the rest of the way back!” She tore off down the hill, and Cassandra stood in deadpan silence for a moment before picking up a swift canter to catch up. She overtook Rapunzel within seconds, coming up on her left and grabbing her around the waist with her free arm. Rapunzel shrieked with laughter as she was hauled roughly into the air, kicking her legs out until she managed to hook them up over Cassandra’s back and pull herself up.

“Hey, that’s cheating!”

“No one ever said I couldn’t hitch a ride!” Rapunzel protested, fisting her hands in the back of Cassandra’s shirt.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “You’re still coming in last because you’re sitting behind me!”

Rapunzel rested her chin on Cassandra’s shoulder with a smirk. “I dunno, it feels like I’m winning from back here,”

Cassandra flushed and gave a little buck, causing Rapunzel to squeal and wrap an arm around her waist. “That’s what you get, cheater!”

“It’s not cheating!” Rapunzel insisted, laughing in Cassandra’s ear. 

They galloped up to the little stone bridge that ran across Knot’s Creek just as dusk began to fall. Cassandra slowed to a walk, and Rapunzel slid off her back with a winded giggle. The farmhouse rose up on the left side of the road, and the two made their way to the gate on foot.

The Der Sonne’s cottage was a cozy little place, a roughly-built house of stone and thatch with a squat, narrow floorplan. It sported a lovely little garden that wrapped around the south-facing side, and a generous decoration of creeper fig hung over the deep-set doorway. Off the western side of the clearing was the old barn where Cassandra slept, and below that stretched the lower field. The green countryside rolled for miles in every direction, and way down in the valley Cassandra could just barely make out the outline of the Parish of Old Corona. Beyond the little town lay a dense cedar forest, and far away at the edge of the horizon was a suggestion of the ocean.

The farmhouse itself was dark and run-down–– the shutters creaked, the floorboards were warped, and the doors had to be handled with great care lest they fall off their hinges; but it was the only home Cassandra had ever known–– she never really counted the cold, cruel streets and countryside of Haershire.

The moment they entered the gate Pascal came waddling out to meet them, honking delightedly and flaring his white wings. Rapunzel scooped him readily into her arms, and Cassandra skirted around them cautiously. She and Pascal didn’t have any particular animosity between them, per se, but she liked to give the goose a wide berth. No bird had any business being able to hiss like a snake.

Cassandra maneuvered around the two and stepped up on the threshold, bending low to shimmy open the heavy wooden door. “Mrs. Der Sonne? I’ve got your laundry for you.”

“One moment, Cassandra!” There was a moment or two of shuffling and clinking in the kitchen before Arianna Der Sonne rounded the corner and floated down the hall. She was an older woman, likely pushing fifty; but her auburn hair stubbornly refused to grey and her eyes seemed never to lose their spark. She held herself like royalty, and Cassandra had a sneaking suspicion she would be perfectly in her element in either parliament or a pigsty. Cassandra would never cease to be in awe of her, and no matter how many times she asked her to ‘just call me Arianna, sweetheart’, she never could manage the courage to do so.

“Thank you, dear,” Arianna smiled, taking the offered basket from Cassandra’s arms. “Come in if you like–– but try to watch the hall table, this time.” She winked and Cassandra flushed as she ducked through the door, taking care to avoid the glaringly vase-less table which ran the length of the wall.

“Ah,” Arianna turned suddenly on her heel, slipping past Cassandra to look out the door. “Rapunzel, dear! Your father wants to see you in the paddock about the goats!”

Cassandra heard Rapunzel make a noise of acknowledgement, and Arianna turned back around, this time strolling down the hall and turning the corner into the master bedroom. Cassandra followed her cautiously, wincing at every creak the floorboards made under her hooves.

“Now, I don’t believe I’ve ever worn these,” Arianna said, and as Cassandra tucked herself into the doorway she was met with the sight of Rapunzel’s paints and canvas sticking haphazardly out of the basket.

“Ach, sorry about that,” Cassandra flicked her tail and reached to take the pile of paint supplies off her hands, but Arianna blocked her.

“No, no, it’s alright. I’d rather not have you trying to climb the stairs, if you don’t mind.” Arianna smiled kindly, and Cassandra flushed, backing cautiously out of the doorway.

“Yeah, that’s uh. Probably for the best.” She bumped into the wall behind her, causing an old picture frame to tremble violently where it hung. “Dammit, ah, you know what––” very carefully, she lowered herself down to her knees and laid on the floor. “I’ll just. stay here. for a bit.”

Arianna chuckled, stepping carefully over Cassandra’s back and disappearing around the corner. After a moment, Cassandra heard the gentle _thump-thump-thump_ of her ascent to Rapunzel’s room upstairs. For a moment, Cassandra waited in peace.

“Honk!”

Cassandra lurched, startled. Pascal stood at the end of the hallway, blinking at her. “Uh….hi.”

“Honk!”

“....And a ‘honk’ to you too.”

“Cass!” Rapunzel’s yell startled her and reverberated around the house. Pascal hissed and the hallways erupted into flapping for a split second, and then Cassandra found herself with a goose huddled up on her withers. Rapunzel swung herself around the corner, hair freshly mussed and garnished with straw. Another yell was forming on her lips when she caught sight of Cassandra. “Oh! There you are! Do you still have my stuff with you?”

“Raps, what the hell happened to your–– _uff!_ ” Rapunzel paid her no heed, scrambling over her back and into her parents’ cramped bedroom. Pascal honked and hopped down to follow her. She rifled through the laundry basket for a moment before looking back up with imploring eyes.

Cassandra blinked. “Uh, your mom took all your stuff up to your room.”

“Thank you!” Rapunzel vaulted over Cassandra’s back a second time, running down the hall and quickly ascending the stairs.

“You’re welcome,” Cassandra muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Honk!”

"Stop that."

"Honk!"

“Fuck off.”

Pascal ruffled his feathers, looking offended.

A flurry of activity in the attic, and Rapunzel came thundering back down the stairs. She called a rushed ‘thank you’ to her mother as she blew through the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of Cassandra. Her arms were stacked with precariously-wobbling art supplies. “Cass, come on!”

Cassandra groaned, but nevertheless braced herself on the floor and launched herself to her feet, narrowly avoiding smacking her head on the doorframe. “Where are we going?” 

“To your room! I just got the perfect idea for how to finish this painting!”

Cassandra sighed deeply as she followed Rapunzel’s retreating form through the narrow house. “Raps, it’s too _dark_. Besides, your mom will probably have dinner ready soon–– just wait until tomorrow!”

Suddenly Rapunzel was in front of her and staring directly into her face–– well. into her stomach, more like; but her accusatory finger was aimed solidly at Cassandra’s right eyeball and her face was set in a stern expression that made her look frighteningly similar to her father. “Inspiration. Doesn’t. Wait.”

Cassandra gulped, taking a step back. “Ooookay then. Lead the way.”

Rapunzel scurried out the front door and into the dusky yard, leaving Cassandra to squeeze through the doorway after her.

They crossed the clearing to the barn, where Rapunzel’s father was closing up the goat pens. He arched a thick brow as Rapunzel raced past him into Cassandra’s half of the barn, and Cassandra simply shrugged her shoulders at him as she followed Raps through the tall doorway.

Rapunzel had already lit the lantern on the nightstand, casting the whole room in a warm glow. It wasn’t a particularly large space, but it was kept meticulously clean and free of clutter. There was an old pillow resting on an older table in the far corner, with a large mattress laying on the floor next to it. A little workbench was tucked up into the wall beside the door, which was populated only by Cassandra’s little whittling knife and a few lumps of wood.

Rapunzel had set up her canvas beside the lantern, and Cassandra pulled up behind her to watch.

“I was helping my dad bring the goats in and saw these two doves,” Rapunzel said breathlessly, already rifling through her paints, “and I got to watching them, and then Milly knocked me down in the straw and they flew away but that’s not the _important_ part––” So that explained the hair, then. Rapunzel’s fingers fumbled with the cork on her bottle of white. “They were just so _soft_ under the light and their wings caught the sun just so–– and I realized what my painting was missing is them!”

“Those two doves, specifically?” Cassandra arched her brow.

“Mhm!” Rapunzel quickly whipped up a soft cream color and began blocking in her doves.

“Well, okay then.” Cassandra watched her for another few minutes, then turned to go clean a few shavings off her workbench. “So are you just….gonna plant yourself there all night, then?”

“Not _all_ night, silly; just until I get this right.”

“So….all night.”

“ _Ca-a-a-ss,_ ” Rapunzel whined, and Cassandra rolled her eyes with a chuckle.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go ask your mom when supper’s ready.”

“Tell her I’m eating out here tonight!”

“Sure thing, Raps.” She wrapped her arms around herself as she trotted out into the biting cold, held the door for a very disgruntled-looking Pascal, who must have gotten locked out; and proceeded to make her way across the clearing. She shimmied the stubborn door open and squeezed herself inside with as much finesse as she could muster.

When Cassandra arrived at the kitchen, the elder Der Sonnes were bent close over the table, murmuring urgently to one another. A half-chopped carrot lay beside them, forgotten. When Cassandra cleared her throat they jumped as if she’d caught them in the midst of a murder plot. “Uh….is everything alright?”

Arianna smoothed her hair back, looking uncharacteristically frazzled. “Of course, dear; everything’s fine. Fred, would you mind going to the cellar and getting me the jar of vinegar?”

“O-of course, Arianna.” Frederic’s beard twitched. He was broad-shouldered with a stern face and imposing height, but he carried himself like a much smaller man who had been taught from a young age to look bigger than he was. He passed Cassandra with a curt nod, and she averted her eyes.

“Is there something you need, dear?” Arianna’s voice drew her gaze back toward the kitchen. She had resumed chopping her carrot, and when she looked up she seemed….tired. It was a startling expression on such a dauntless face.

Cassandra cleared her throat. _It’s rude to gawp._ “Yeah, actually. Rapunzel was wondering if she could take supper in my room tonight. She’s gotten caught up on a painting again.”

Arianna chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual warmth. “Of course. Wait here for just a minute, and I’ll send you off with both of your meals.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introductory chapters are evil and I hate them; hopefully everything flows a bit smoother from here on out!
> 
> Huge thanks to Laika for helping me flesh out this AU and reading over this chapter for me!!!


	2. The Landlord

_'The sun rose over the sweep of the hill_

_All bare for the gathered hay,_

_And a blackbird sang by the window-sill,_

_And a girl knelt down to pray:_

_‘Whom Thou hast kept through the night, O Lord,_

_Keep Thou safe through the day.’'_

_\- May Wedderburn Cannan, 'August 1914'_

♟ ♟ ♟

Cassandra woke up with a mouthful of Rapunzel’s hair.

She jerked upright with a cough, and felt a slow ripple of movement against her belly as Rapunzel woke. “Cass, knock it off,” she moaned, grabbing her around the waist and pulling herself in closer. “You’re making me cold.”

Cassandra cautiously shifted to wrap her forelegs more comfortably around Rapunzel. “Raps, did you crawl into bed with me last night?”

“No....”

“Do you have _any_ idea how stupid that was?”

“Maybe....”

“I could have _crushed_ you, and then I’d have to go up to the house to tell your parents that I murdered you in your sleep while I was also sleeping and then they’d murder _me_ , and _mpff_ ––” Her rant was cut short by Rapunzel’s finger pressing against her lips.

“Shushhh. Sleep time.” She snuggled in closer, hugging Cassandra around the waist and nuzzling against her stomach.

“Raps, no–– I have to go feed the goats!”

“They’re fine for a few more minutes...”

Cassandra snorted, flicking her tail irritably as she looked around the room. Their empty bowls sat on the nightstand beside the burned-out lantern (well. _Rapunzel’s_ empty bowl and Cassandra’s empty pot), and Rapunzel’s painting sat up against the wall–– she must have continued working on it long after Cass had finally crashed, if the unfamiliar new details were any indication. All that seemed to be missing was––

“Honk!”

Cassandra startled and nearly rolled on top of Rapunzel, who was a stalwart sleeper as always and simply scruncher up closer. _There he is._ Cassandra released a shaky breath and carefully sank back down on her side as Pascal waddled over to them from underneath the workbench, fixing her with an intense look that made her want to shrink down small enough to hide behind Rapunzel. He hopped up on the hollow of her flank, stared at her for another moment, then nestled down contentedly in a stream of cool morning sunlight.

“What am I, a bed?”

Pascal honked decisively in response.

Cassandra blew a strand of hair out of her face. “I can’t believe all I am to you two is a pillow.” Rapunzel hummed against her belly, and Cassandra sighed. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to indulge her for a _little_ longer. Just a little.

Cassandra’s eyes had almost fallen shut again when an obnoxious _bee-beep!_ broke through her peaceful morning haze. The floorboards rumbled and Pascal screeched as he vacated his resting place in a flurry of feathers.

“What the––” Cassandra grabbed Rapunzel by her shoulders and carefully pushed her out of the way–– which was easier said than done considering her impressive capacity for clinging–– and rolled onto her feet with an ungainly lurch. She made her way to the far side of the room, stretching her stiff muscles as she went, and unlatched the door. Cold morning mist blasted her face, and Cassandra shivered as cold tears gathered in her eyes. Resting just behind the gate was a gleaming black motorcar; an unusual sight so far out in the country–– hell, an unusual sight even in the town. There was only one man in these parts who owned one, and Cassandra felt her heart drop into her barrel as the driver’s-side door opened. “ _Shit._ ”

“Cass....?” Rapunzel came up behind her with a groggy moan, resting one hand on her flank and trailing it forward as she peeked under Cassandra’s arm to get a look.

Cassandra shifted slightly to accommodate her. “Looks like old Mr. Atkinson’s come to pay us a visit.”

“Mr. Atkinson? John Atkinson? The landlord?”

“Yup.”

Rapunzel rubbed her eyes, seeming much more awake now. “What’s he doing out here? It’s the middle of summer!”

“I don’t know, but I doubt he’s here for tea and biscuits,” Cassandra grumbled.

Rapunzel huffed, and disappeared from underneath Cassandra’s arm. “Raps? Raps, what are you doing?”

Rapunzel grabbed an old jacket off the coat hook behind Cassandra’s door and shrugged it on over her blouse. “I’m gonna go–– _hmph_ –– see what he’s here for."

“What? No! Bad idea! Very bad idea!” Cassandra reached for her sleeve, but Rapunzel slipped out of her grasp and out into the misty morning air.

“ _Rapunzel!_ ” Cassandra hissed, but she went either unheard or ignored as Rapunzel loped barefoot across the clearing. Pascal waddled up between Cassandra’s legs, fluffing up apprehensively. Cassandra lashed her tail. “Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ ,” she muttered, pausing on the threshold before stepping out after Rapunzel. She wrapped her arms protectively around her chest as a chill seeped through her flimsy work-shirt. _Eugh,_ she really needed to change.

“Mr. Atkinson! It’s so good to see you!” The sharp, terse cheer in Rapunzel’s voice made Cassandra wince, and she picked up her pace as she made her way across the yard.

Mr. Atkinson was quite possibly the stuffiest man Cassandra had ever met, a master of backhanded compliments and cunning condescension–– except when it came to Cassandra, for whom he seemed to hold too much disdain to waste his effort on cunning. The sentiment was returned in full, make no mistake–– but at least Cassandra wasn’t an _ass_. And at least she didn’t talk to the old bag as if he weren’t there.

“Miss Der Sonne,” Atkinson chuckled, closing the motorcar door, “lovely to see you, little lady! Why, you haven’t grown a bit since you were brought here, have you?”

Rapunzel’s eye twitched. “I mean, I was ten....so....I mean no, I did grow a bit. A lot, actually, I–”

“Ah,” Atkinson exclaimed, steamrolling over Rapunzel’s rambling as he turned his beady gaze on Cassandra. “I see you’re still here.” He gave her an appraising glance before turning to fiddle with his briefcase. “Bloody fool, that Frederic. Tell me, lass, can you even pull a wagon or do you just fold laundry for show?”

Before Cassandra could muster a retort, Rapunzel jumped in between them. “Cassandra’s a part of our family, Mr. Atkinson, and it doesn’t matter how much work she can or can’t do!”

Cassandra winced and bit her lip. For whatever reason, that comment.... _stung_. Rapunzel was defending her; it wasn’t fair to her to be upset....but that didn’t stop the gnawing feeling in her stomach.

Atkinson sniffed, waving his free hand flippantly. “Yes, yes; champions of the orphan, your parents. I could see why they took _you_ in, of course, what with that crazy old bat who raised you; but at nineteen years old _she_ should’ve been standing on her own.... _four_ feet.”

Rapunzel’s smile faltered and her whole form seemed to slump. Before it could get any worse, Cassandra stepped up and settled a hand on her shoulder. “If you’re here to see Raps’ parents, Mr. Atkinson, they’re in the house.”

Atkinson sniffed again, looking a little surprised to be addressed so directly by her. “Ah–– yes, yes of course.”

“But why?” Rapunzel burst out, seeming to have recovered her dignity, “I thought you weren’t coming for another month at least!”

Nigel harrumphed, turning toward the farmhouse. “That is none of your concern, young lady. Now; if you’ll excuse me.” He tipped his hat and stepped up to the doorway, rapping harshly three times.

Almost immediately, the hinges creaked and Frederic’s face appeared in the doorway. He must’ve heard the motorcar pull up. “Mr. Atkinson,” he said, with a strained smile.

Atkinson tipped his hat. “Frederic.”

For a moment the two men stood there silently on the threshold, until Atkinson cleared his throat. “May I come in?”

“Ah–– yes, of course.” Frederic stepped aside, allowing the portly old man through. Immediately Rapunzel dashed to follow him, but her father put out a hand to stop her. “Stay out here, Rapunzel. This is none of your concern.”

“None of my concern?” Rapunzel’s voice was low and seething. “When our landlord shows up two months early acting even more.... _himself_ than usual? I’m very concerned!”

Frederic sighed, his eyes flashing to Cassandra as if searching for support. Finding none, he turned his gaze upon Rapunzel. “I promise I’ll explain everything after Mr. Atkinson leaves, darling. But for now, just stay outside. Perhaps you could go help Cassandra with the goats.” Before Rapunzel could retort, the door was shut in her face.

Rapunzel stomped her foot in frustration, and Cassandra frowned. “Come on, Raps. Clearly whatever they’re talking about, they want to keep it private.”

“But they shouldn’t be trying to hide anything! Not from me!”

Cassandra sighed. “They’re just trying to protect you, Raps––”

“From _what?”_ Rapunzel cried, and Cassandra bit her lip.

_From what, indeed._ “ I don’t....they have their reasons, okay? It’s best to just–– Rapunzel?”

The girl in question had walked away from her mid-sentence, and was currently creeping up at the barely-cracked kitchen window.

“Raps, no!” Cassandra yelped, lashing her tail as she trotted over. “Leave it be!”

“I’m just going to listen in for a moment! It’s fine!”

“That is not fine! It’s the opposite of fine! Now come on, let’s––”

There was a loud _creak_ , and the window popped open under Rapunzel’s fingers. The both of them froze, waiting with fluttering heartbeats for their presence to be noticed. For a moment, silence. Then Mr. Atkinson’s voice floated through the opening.

“So! You two haven’t made enough money for rent this year.”

Frederic sighed heavily. “We’ll have your money by the end of the month, John.”

“Oh really? And where are you going to get it? Three years in a row and you’ve barely scraped by, but this; oh, this is cutting it close, Frederic. I’ve half a mind to reclaim this property right now!”

Rapunzel gasped, and before Cassandra could stop her she dashed away from the windowsill and was wrestling the front door open.

“Rapunzel, stop!”

_Too late._ Cassandra dashed in after her, knocking the hall table in her haste to grab Rapunzel before she got to the kitchen. But despite Cassandra’s superior speed, Raps had the upper hand in the narrow house. She skidded around the corner, and the heated conversation came to an abrupt halt.

“What do you mean you’re going to reclaim the property?”

Cassandra scrambled up behind Rapunzel, and suddenly felt very small in the face of three intense faces looking their way. Atkinson, of course, was the first to recover.

“I _mean_ that your overly-charitable parents can’t pull together enough money for rent!”

“John,” Arianna hissed, but the landlord paid her no heed.

“And if they can’t use the land well enough to pay for it, they don’t deserve to have it!”

“But that’s not fair!” Rapunzel cried. “We can’t make enough to buy a plow horse, so we can’t even use the lower field! That’s where all the money comes from, you know that!”

“Well then maybe your parents should’ve thought about that before they took on.... _extra baggage_ three years ago!”

Cassandra sucked in a sharp breath. That was true, wasn’t it? Cassandra was the reason the family couldn’t afford a horse. She supposed, in some facet, she had known that–– after all, she cost them just as much space and certainly more money, seeing as she couldn’t do any of the heavy work a centaur hand would normally do. Still, the words burned like nothing else ever had.

Arianna stood up, looking horrified, but before the room could explode further Frederic’s hand thumped on the table. “Well, the solution here seems obvious, John.”

Interrupted from his tirade, Atkinson blinked owlishly over his shoulder at him.

“We’ll have to sow the lower field.”

Atkinson spluttered, and Arianna frowned. “Fred, we can’t––”

“We can,” Frederic rumbled, his jaw set. “We’ll plant it with turnips, and have a fine harvest in the fall.”

Atkinson’s spastic laughter made Cassandra’s blood curdle. “The lower field’s got to be plowed before it can be sown! What are you going to plow it with, eh? Those two little dairy goats of yours? _That?”_ His smug, mean eyes shot to Casssandra and she growled angrily, stamping her hoof the floor.

_Jackass._

Frederic stood up and cleared his throat. “I’ll take my hoe out day after tomorrow. It won’t be easy, but it’s tried and true. Give us ‘til September, John. You’ll have your money.”

“But September's in three months!”

“It’s only two extra months, John. We’ve never been late before; just give us this chance.”

Atkinson sniffed angrily. “I can’t wait for the money, Fred!" His voice lowered darkly. "Trouble's brewing in politics and I don't intend to be caught in it."

Frederic’s brow furrowed. “Two months, John. The world won't end in two months.”

Arianna stepped up behind him. “Please.”

Atkinson pursed his lips, considering, before releasing a deep sigh. “I.... _suppose_ I could be generous enough to let you stay until the fall.”

Cassandra released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, and the whole room seemed to follow suit.

“But I’d get on that hoeing if I were you–– perhaps if you’re lucky you might get it done in time for the new tenant after I repossess this farm!”

“We’ll get it done, John,” Frederic said mildly, and Cassandra wondered how he could be so calm in the face of such disrespect.

“Well then,” Atkinson said, gathering up his briefcase. “It seems our work here is done.” He snapped the clasps shut and tipped his hat tersely. “Good day.”

Before he could step out the door, Rapunzel rushed to meet him. “Sir, what happens if–– if he can’t? Hoe the field in time, I mean.”

Atkinson smirked. “Then I’ll take back your father’s farm and everything he’s bought with my money, and maybe his glorified show horse as well!”

Cassandra snarled, digging her nails into her arms. If Atkinson noticed her reaction, he didn’t comment on it. He tipped his hat once more, then stepped out the front door. As soon as his shoes touched the dirt Pascal was on him, hissing and flaring his wings as he chase Atkinson back to his motorcar.

“The absolute _asshat_ ––” Cassandra hissed, cutting herself off and slamming her hoof on the floor. Rapunzel didn’t even flinch at her language, looking numb as she fiddled slowly with her fingers.

“Raps?” Cassandra picked her way to Rapunzel’s side, leaning down to rub her shoulders. Almost immediately, she whipped around and pulled Cassandra into a crushing hug. Cassandra caught Arianna’s gaze over Rapunzel’s head, and something cracked inside her at the sight of her dark, hopeless expression. Frederic, beside her, pinched his brow and sank into a chair.

They had until October to plow, sow, and harvest the lower field. It was....not just a difficult task, it was an impossible one. If they had a good plow horse then _maybe_ , but the family didn’t even have enough money for rent, much less a horse. Cassandra stared out the window as she rubbed Rapunzel’s back, watching Atkinson’s motorcar trundle down the road toward the town.

_“What are you going to plow it with, eh?_ That _?”_

“....Mr. Der Sonne?”

Frederic looked up slowly, his eyes heavy. “What is it, Cassandra?”

“I....I could, if you wanted–– I could try to pull the old plow.”

“Absolutely not,” Arianna cut in, tossing a dish towel over her shoulder. “Even a shire wouldn’t have a chance at that field, dear; don’t you even suggest it.”

“We could let her try,” Frederic murmured. “It’s as good a plan as any.”

“Frederic!”

“Dad!” Rapunzel’s lips pursed, and she turned to Cassandra. “Cass, absolutely not. There’s no way.”

Cassandra lashed her tail. “It’s no worse than asking your dad to hoe the whole field! At least let me try!”

“I won’t hear of it, Cassandra,” Arianna said, and the tone of her voice made it clear the matter was decided. “Rapunzel, go with Cassandra back to the barn and feed the goats. Your father and I have some things to discuss.”

Rapunzel took Cassandra’s hand and pulled lightly. Her voice was dejected when she spoke. “Come on, Cass.”

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, but followed her down the hallway, out into the cold air, and on toward the barn. She bit her lip as they shuffled through the cold clearing, and Rapunzel huddled against her side for warmth.

“I could do it, you know,” Cassandra murmured.

“Do what?”

“Plow the field. I’m sure I could do it.”

“Cass, no.” Rapunzel’s voice was firm. “You’re not built for it; there’s no way you’d even get it to break ground.” She reached for the barn door and Cassandra swivelled in front of it, blocking her.

“How do you know that? Come on, Raps. There’s not a chance in hell your dad will be able to hoe that whole field fast enough. It’s hard as stone–– the only one who has a shot is me. If we don’t get that lower field planted your family will lose _everything,_ Raps–”

“And if you try to plow that field I might lose you!” Rapunzel grabbed the sleeves of her rumbled shirt, pulling Cassandra down to look her in the eye. “I know how stubborn you are, Cass; you’ll kill yourself on that plow and I won’t let you.”

Cassandra pulled out of her grasp. “Your parents are going into town tomorrow for supplies, Raps, and the moment they leave I’m going to try. Either you help me, or get out of my way.”

Rapunzel reached out, trying to clutch at her again. “Cass, really? Somebody’s got to hold the handles or it’ll just drag around any which way it wants!”

Cassandra pulled open the barn door and grit her teeth. “Well then, I guess I’ll drag it around until either it breaks or I do.” For a moment she stood in the doorway, and neither of them said a word. Cassandra finally turned to step inside, when Rapunzel’s voice stopped her.

“I’ll help you,” she murmured. “If you’re going to do it anyway, we might as well do it right.”

There was a long silence, and Cassandra shivered in the chill. So much had happened so fast, and yet the eastern skyline was still tinged pink. “....Thank you, Raps.”

Rapunzel nodded silently, and pushed past Cassandra into the musty darkness just as the goats began to stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're suffering in this Chili's tonight >:3
> 
> EDIT: Fixed the formatting in a few places  
> EDIT: Edited a line to fit better in the context
> 
> ~ ~ ~
> 
> Huge thanks to Laika for reading over this chapter for me!!


	3. The Plow

_‘Iron are our lives_

_Molten right through our youth._

_A burnt space through ripe fields,_

_A fair mouth's broken tooth.’_

_~ Isaac Rosenburg, 'August 1914'_

♟ ♟ ♟

The morning air dripped with tenuous normalcy. 

It itched under Cassandra’s skin and followed her through her routine, cutting softly under her nerves when she woke alone in her room and niggling at the back of her mind as she shook off the brief, baffling sensation of loneliness. She pushed the feeling away and shrugged on her coat. Upon sensing the freezing mist creeping under and around the door, she decided to toss a blanket over her back as well. Even still, the cold seeped under her fur as she stepped out into the hazy clearing. 

Pascal greeted her on the doorstep and fluttered up to nestle on her withers, fluffing up against the chill and warbling his displeasure with the heavy air. “Good morning to you too,” Cassandra grumbled. The goose nibbled her jacket in response. Cassandra flicked her tail in exasperation, but didn’t bother to dislodge him. He was warm.

She milked the goats impatiently–– the job did not allow for swiftness, and she stewed in the wet chill and her bad temper as she worked. Pascal trilled his support from a nearby workbench. After feeding the nannies and turning them out with their kids, Cassandra hoisted her full milk pails and lugged them up toward the farmhouse.

The first thing she noticed upon entering the house was that the kitchen fire was crackling and the tight halls were thankfully, wonderfully _warm_. The second thing she noticed was a dishonest tension even heavier than the air outside. Frederic passed her in the front hall with a nod and a low “good morning, Cassandra,” to which she responded in kind. Arianna caught her eye through the bedroom door and smiled fleetingly as she shuffled her hair into a neat, pretty bun. 

Rapunzel took the milk pails from Cassandra with a cheery trill of “good morning, Cass!” accompanied by a face-splitting smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Morning, Raps,” Cassandra murmured in response. She shuddered slightly, unsettled.

“Mom and I are making a tattie fry for breakfast; be back in by eight-thirty, alright?” Rapunzel’s voice was saccharine and her smile even more so, and Cassandra felt the itching in her nerves intensify.

“Sounds good,” she said, and Rapunzel bounced and spun on the balls of her feet before disappearing around the corner into the kitchen. Cassandra turned carefully in the hall and made her way out of the house with as much haste as she could muster. She lashed her tail as she hurried back to the barn. 

Cassandra hated it when the atmosphere felt like this–– so cutting and strange. She wondered if the Der Sonnes noticed it like she did. They never seemed to. Often, when the air became thick with hidden things, the family carried on happily as if there was nothing wrong. It was invisible tension, written in the air, and Cassandra hated it more than anything else in the world.

She gave herself a sharp shake to clear the claustrophobic sensation, startling Pascal from where he was foraging beside the barn.

“Hey, little guy. Didn’t see you there.”

Pascal tilted his head and warbled.

Cassandra squinted at him and shivered. “Feels like rain, doesn’t it?”

“Honk!”

“Yeah. Not good at all.” If it rained while they were plowing the field…. 

_Then we’ll just plow through it._

Satisfied with her declaration, Cassandra nodded to Pascal and stepped into her room. She hastily brushed her teeth with a bit of soot from the indoor fireplace and passed a dandy brush over her coat, trying to soothe the itch in her blood. After changing her shirt and re-bundling herself up, she went around the back of the farmhouse to the bigger of the two kitchen windows and popped her head inside. Rapunzel looked up from where she was putting away the milk strainer and jumped, hastily replacing her solemn frown with a bright mask. 

“Cass! Hi! You’re a little early for breakfast; do you need something?”

Something in Cassandra twinged and she ran an agitated hand through her hair. “Can you stop being so _weird?_ Please?”

“I’m not being weird!”

“Oh you _so_ are. I mean, I can understand your parents. They’re Mr. and Mrs. Lock and Key. But what’s your deal, Raps?” Cassandra glowered at her across the counter.

Rapunzel’s smile faltered and she sighed, letting the strainer drop into its drawer and wiping her hands on her apron. “I’m sorry, Cass. It’s just–– I don’t like lying to them.”

Cassandra chewed her lip. “I get it, Rapunzel, I do. But you and I both know that your dad can’t hoe that whole field! Besides,” she chuckled, “it’s not like we’ve got anything left to lose.”

Rapunzel frowned, but sighed in defeat. “I know, Cass. Mom and dad are leaving in half an hour. I’ll meet you at the doorway.”

Cassandra nodded and tapped her fingers on the windowsill for a moment, hesitant to leave the warmth of the kitchen.

“Cassandra?”

Cassandra jumped, nearly banging the top of her head on the windowsill. She looked up at Arianna, who had just walked into the kitchen. For a moment there was silence, and after a moment the air of expectation caught up to her and Cassandra cleared her throat. “Ah–– what was that? Ma’am?”

Arianna gave her a soft, tired smile. “Could you get me a pail of water? Rapunzel and I are going to start breakfast soon.”

“Ah, yeah. Of course.” Cassandra ducked her head out of the warm kitchen, shooting one last furtive glance at Rapunzel before shutting the window and trotting down toward the well. The damp haze in the air seemed to have somehow intensified, and Cassandra shivered.

♟ ♟ ♟

Breakfast was mostly silent. Frederic and Arianna quietly discussed the weather and agreed to take an umbrella with them into town. Rapunzel occasionally tried to start conversation, but each attempt was quickly snuffed out. Cassandra wolfed down her food and later regretted it as she laid at the table, quietly fidgeting in the dense atmosphere.

After what seemed like an eternity, Rapunzel’s parents said their goodbyes and headed out toward town with a basket and a few bottles of goats’ milk for the grocer. As soon as they disappeared over the rise, Cassandra went to meet Rapunzel by the farmhouse door. She appeared on the threshold wearing a pair of overlarge trousers and one of her father’s work shirts, and Cassandra snorted.

“No offense, Raps, but that shirt looks like it’s trying to wear _you_.”

Rapunzel huffed, and when she flailed her arms the shirtsleeves fluttered several inches past her fingers. “I can’t exactly plow a field in a dress!”

“No, but you could at least wear a shirt that fits!” Cassandra plucked at a hastily-fastened suspender strap and watched it disappear into a sea of off-white cotton when she let it go. “Come on, I’ll let you borrow one of mine.”

Rapunzel’s eyes darted sideways and her cheeks flushed, and before Cassandra could puzzle that out she clapped her hands together and smiled. “Sure! Yeah, that’d be great!”

The pair hurried to Cassandra’s room, and after tossing one of her smaller shirts at Rapunzel Cassandra turned to stare diligently into a corner while her friend changed. The little flea-shaped marking on the wood panels had never before seemed so interesting.

“Done!” Rapunzel called, and Cassandra blew out a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she turned back toward Rapunzel. “Thanks, Cass; this one definitely fits better.”

 _That it does,_ Cassandra thought, momentarily stunned by the sight of Rapunzel in her shirt. Raps was so fond of dresses that Cassandra had never seen her in anything else, and the new look left her speechless. Cassandra’s shirt still swam on her, but with the sleeves rolled up and the collar just slightly disheveled it….suited her. It suited her very much.

“Cass?” Rapunzel tilted her head questioningly, and Cassandra snapped her tail as she shook herself out of her daze. _Focus._

She cleared her throat and prayed the warmth in her cheeks wasn’t visible. “ _Ah_ , yeah, it uh–– yeah, you’re right. It definitely fits you better. You can–– you can have it, if you want.”

Rapunzel giggled and snapped the suspenders against her shoulders. “I just might take you up on that; this is _comfy_!”

Cassandra averted her gaze and rubbed the back of her neck for a moment before giving herself another shake. _Focus. We’re focusing._ She stepped pointedly toward the door, and shoved the strange fluttery feeling she had at the thought of Rapunzel wearing one of her shirts on a regular basis very, _very_ far down. “I’m glad you think so, Raps. Now come on, we’ve got a plow-harness to find.”

Rapunzel’s smile faltered, and Cassandra winced. “Yeah,” she murmured, “yeah, I guess we do. Lead the way.”

They ducked out of the barn and made the short trek down the hillside to the old shed, where the Der Sonnes kept their less-used farm tools. Halfway down the path Pascal met them, covered in red dirt. Cassandra didn’t even want to know where it had come from. Rapunzel readily scooped him into her arms, and the goose warbled contentedly as he smeared mud all over her shoulder. 

Cassandra couldn’t fit in the shed, so Rapunzel went in alone. Judging by the many and numerous yelps and clangs which the building began to emit, finding the harness amongst the chaos of the shed must have proved to be quite the undertaking. There was a sudden _bang!_ and a triumphant cry, and after a moment Rapunzel came stumbling out of the low building with her arms full of leather, trailed by a heavy cloud of dust and cobweb.

“Well,” she huffed, dropping her heavy load onto the grass, “there it is.”

Cassandra felt her heart sink at the sight of the harness. In the heat of her determination, she hadn’t properly considered how _big_ it would be. Or how they’d manage to untangle it all or even how to put it _on_. Cassandra’s experience with farm work had never yet involved working in harness, and she was rapidly beginning to regret having not picked up the skill.

If the furrow between her brows was any indication, Rapunzel seemed to be having similar thoughts. “Do you…. happen to know how it works?”

Cassandra rubbed the back of her neck. “Nope.”

Awkward silence, for a moment, and then Rapunzel clapped her hands. “Well then! I guess we’ll just learn as we go! It’ll be _fun!_ ” Her voice cracked on that last word, and Cassandra could almost chuckle at how unconvincing her optimism was. Still, she shrugged her shoulders and grabbed the nearest mess of leather trappings.

“Yeah. Super fun.”

♟ ♟ ♟

The harness was…. uncomfortable, to say the least.

Even with the blanket they’d stuffed underneath it, the collar was much too big and settled awkwardly on Cassandra’s hips. She was fairly sure a proper collar on a centaur harness would wrap around her waist, but this would have to do. It had been fine until they’d locked the hames in, and now Cassandra could feel the weight of it grinding into her bones. Rapunzel helped her fudge the breast strap, girth, and britchen; and both of them laboured over trying to separate the usable harness from the tangled mess of bridle and driving lines. The heel chains rankled at Cassandra’s fetlocks and the back pad dug into her spine, but it….worked. It would have to work.

The plow itself, they discovered, was an even more incredible obstacle. Built for a shire, the massive thing hovered a foot or so behind Cassandra’s hooves, chains jangling like laughter at her fetlocks. They’d had to reclaim it from the earth–– Cassandra had never seen it used and Rapunzel, despite having lived on the farm since she was a child, hadn’t either. It was rusted and creaky, and one of the gauge wheels screamed with every turn. Hitching it up was a process of trial and error, involving many instances of Rapunzel asking if she’d done something correctly and Cassandra craning backward to tell her she wasn’t sure.

Now the two of them stood in the middle of a rocky field, already winded from their endeavors. Experimentally, Cassandra leaned her weight into the collar. The plow wouldn’t budge.

“Cass, I really don’t know about this,” Rapunzel murmured, trying once more in vain to adjust the collar up higher on Cassandra’s hip. “Maybe if the harness fit, at least, but-”

“No buts,” Cassandra growled, swatting her hands away. “We’ve been over this, Rapunzel. If we don’t do this, your family will lose everything. We’ll have to make it work.”

Rapunzel’s expression crumpled, and Cassandra tried to ignore the sting of guilt that bristled under her skin. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“....What happens if we _can’t_ make it work?”

“What?”

Rapunzel bit her lip and fiddled with the sleeve of her dress. “I know you think you can do it, and I believe in you! Really! But….still. What happens if….if it’s not….” she trailed off, staring at the ground.

Cassandra knew the answer to that question, and she was sure Rapunzel did too. That didn’t make it any less daunting–– thinking about it even for a moment felt like teetering on the edge of a cliff. Perhaps it was even more daunting for Raps–– at least Cassandra knew what to expect when she fell and hit the bottom.

“I’ve been in a workhouse before, Raps,” Cassandra murmured. “If….well. I know what it’s like. I’d keep you safe, I promise.”

Rapunzel’s brow furrowed. “I don’t need protecting, Cass.”

Cassandra snorted. “Tell me that again when you’re on the other end of a workhouse master’s cane. I promise, it’s a lot scarier than any pissed-off billy goat.”

“Cass!”

Cassandra groaned. “Oh for the love of–– an _angry_ billy goat. Are you happy now?”

Rapunzel rolled her eyes, and fiddled with Cassandra’s ill-fitted back pad. “No,” she murmured, and Cassandra sighed. She patted Rapunzel’s back firmly. 

“Come on, Raps, I believe in us. We’ll make this work! ….Probably.”

Rapunzel chuckled dryly. “You are a terrible optimist.”

“Yeah, well, optimism isn’t my job, is it?”

Rapunzel glanced between Cass and the field, took a deep breath, and set her jaw. “Well then, I guess we’re doing this.” She quickly tied her hair back in a ponytail, then clapped her hands as if to physically startle herself into motion. She checked the hitch once more, then stepped behind the plow and took up the handles. “Ready when you are.”

Cassandra took a deep breath and slammed forward. The plow lurched and Rapunzel yelped, stumbling after the handles. 

“Cass!”

“Sorry!” Cassandra winced and waited for Rapunzel to re-orient herself.

“ _Slower,_ this time,” she grumbled, and Cassandra rolled her eyes. On her next try she pressed forward evenly, straining against the collar and breast strap. The plow scraped across the ground as they went, the share and gauge wheels jangling against pebbles as Cassandra dragged its dead weight behind her. The collar felt as if it were drilling holes in her hip bones, and after accidentally tapping it with the tip of her hoof she quickly became fearful of getting her leg caught in the hitch. This, she decided, had to be one of the worst jobs a person could have.

“It’s not breaking ground,” Rapunzel called, and Cassandra grit her teeth. 

“It will!” She ground out. 

An eternity later, the plow was still scudding uselessly across hard earth. Cassandra panted as she hauled it forward, waiting for a sudden groan and increase of drag that wouldn’t come. A light drizzle had started up shortly after they began, and the ever-increasing precipitation slowly soaking her through wasn’t helping their cause. Cassandra’s shoulders had lowered steadily until they were nearly parallel with her hips, and she panted with the effort of continually dragging the plow back and forth across the earth. She put aside the idea of how the hell she’d manage to pull the damn thing if it actually started doing its job. 

_Breathing._ The black hole that had opened up in her throat ten minutes ago had yet to close. _In, out. In-_

“Stop!” There was a lurch on the back of the plow and the unexpected disruption caused Cassandra to lose focus and her shivering knees to subsequently buckle. Her hands flew out to steady herself as her hind legs trembled ominously. She hit the ground with her fist and groaned.

“ _Dammit_ , Rapunzel––”

“We have to stop, Cass,” Rapunzel cut in over her, running up to Cassandra’s side and tugging uselessly at the silver hames. “You tried your best, but you _can’t_. And I can’t watch you keep trying.”

Cassandra sucked in a breath and lurched up to her hooves, ignoring Rapunzel’s distressed yelp as she splayed out in an attempt at keeping her balance. She bent over, holding her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “I––can–– do–– it,” she managed to gasp out.

Rapunzel scoffed. “Do you have _any_ idea how unconvincing that sounds?”

Cassandra pursed her lips. A shiver rocked through her as the rapidly increasing rain soaked through her shirt and built up in the soil, slowly turning it to mud and causing it to stick and suck at her hooves.

Wait a minute.

_Mud._

Slowly, an idea began to take shape in Cassandra’s mind. She reached out and found Rapunzel’s hands, grasping her closer. “We have to try again!” She gasped, “we–– we wait a few minutes, and we try again!” Rapunzel’s brow furrowed as she gripped Cassandra’s wrists.

“Cass-”

“No, no, look–– look at your feet! The rain–– it’s starting to loosen the soil. If we try again in a minute––”

Rapunzel’s eyes sparked. “––the mud will do the work for us!”

Cassandra gasped out a laugh and steadied herself with a hand of Rapunzel’s shoulder as Rapunzel made a compulsive effort to push the harness up higher on her waist. Cassandra pinched the folds of her sleeve between her fingers and frowned at the cold, squidgy texture of damp fabric. “Raps, do you need to ch––”

Rapunzel put one hand on her hip and jabbed the other into Cassandra’s sternum. “Don’t you _dare_ tell me to change, Cass. If you’re going to slog through the mud in wet clothes, then so am I.”

“Raps, come on––”

But Rapunzel ignored her, stomping her foot on the ground. The steady rain had become a downpour, and the earth squelched and sucked up her shoe. She dragged it through the mud a few times, tugged it free, and met Cassandra’s eye. “Now?”

Cassandra took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Rapunzel turned and ran around to the back of the plow, grasping the handles and pressing her weight against them.

“Ready?” She called, and Cassandra leaned into the collar, bracing herself as best she could.

“Now!” Rapunzel leaned into the handles in rhythm with Cassandra’s lurch into motion. Her hooves struggled for purchase on the slippery earth and for one terrible moment the plow seemed as if it would continue to scrape––

There was a sudden jolt, and the plow groaned as the share sank into the earth and _dragged_. 

Immediately, Cassandra stumbled under the new weight. It was _crushing_ , and she strained against the collar as the tugs snapped taut and the plow fought her. Still, none of that mattered as much as the fact that it was _working_ , and Cassandra couldn’t help the triumphant “hah!” that slipped out between gasps.

Rapunzel seemed to be feeling the same elation, if her sudden bark of laughter and call of “we’re doing it!” was anything to go by, and new energy snapped taut as a bowline between them as the plow drove up the earth and dug deep, fertile furrows.

After only a few minutes, Cassandra began to struggle with it. She was nearly cantering in place as she dragged the plow slowly forward, and Rapunzel couldn’t do much to help her aside from making sure the plow didn’t go off-course. Cassandra’s lungs ached and her muscles burned, and she did her best to banish all thoughts from her mind beyond going _forward._ They moved across the rain-soaked field by inches, interrupted only by Rapunzel’s occasional yells of “stop!” and a brief moment of reprieve as she turned the plow around so they could begin digging the next furrow.

Cassandra didn’t know how many furrows they’d traced in the ground when she realized that she wasn’t moving forward anymore.

_That’s….not right._

When she tried to move her forelegs, her hooves pushed up into her barrel. They–– they’d given beneath her.

How did she not _notice_ ––?

Cassandra crumpled softly, not with a stumbling jolt like before. She rested her shoulder against the mud, trying to use her arms to push herself up, but to no avail. Distantly she heard Rapunzel calling out and the squelch of her feet in the mud. Unreality hovered behind Cassandra’s eyes, and the only thing she could register beyond a deep sensation of _cold_ was a bit of slight annoyance at the failing of her forelegs.

At last her hind legs gave out as well, and she laid down in the mud with a deep, wracking cough. For a moment the world around her faded in and out, and then Rapunzel’s voice pitched into her consciousness like cold water on coals.

“Cass, oh my god!” Rapunzel grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up into her arms, and Cassandra huffed as she was pressed into the steamy wetness of Rapunzel’s shirt. “Why didn’t you tell me you had to stop?”

“I….didn’t know.”

It was the truth, wasn’t it? And after all, when she’d already been stretched to her limit when they began, where was the line between ‘too much’ and ‘ _too much_ ’? 

Rapunzel flew into a fuss, though Cassandra could see her hands shaking with cold. “...stubborn streak a mile wide,” she was muttering, fumbling with straps and hooks and slowly working the harness off of Cassandra’s body. 

“Says you,” Cassandra grumbled, earning herself a weak shove.

At long last Rapunzel gripped the collar, and Cassandra hissed as it was pulled away from her hips and brought the soreness into sharp clarity–– a horrible sting reminiscent of the ache that followed sleeping on an awkwardly-bent limb.

Rapunzel’s hands danced from her withers to her shoulders and down, then back up again to grasp her jaw. “Come on, Cass, let’s get back to the house.”

That…. sounded nice. The house would be warm. 

How she would get there was the question.

Cassandra’s legs felt like lead weights underneath her. Even so much as twitching them seemed quite impossible. She lurched experimentally in the mud, and succeeded only in a weak convulsion that made every muscle _screech_.

_Bad, bad, very bad idea._

“Cass?” Rapunzel’s voice was tinged with hysteria, and Cassandra winced.

“I’m fine, I’m coming. Just. Give me a m-moment to––” she was cut off by a chest-deep hacking cough, and _god_ would that be annoying if it kept up any longer. She convulsed again, and huffed in frustration at her body’s useless twinging.

“Cass, come on!” Rapunzel clutched at her shoulders now, dragging upward, but Cassandra was much too heavy for her to lift. “You have to stand up!”

Cassandra licked her lips and lurched forward again, harder this time. Rapunzel pulled at her, which wasn’t so much helpful as it was galvanizing. She slammed her legs out, struggling to keep them beneath her and feeling all at once like a newborn foal again as she leaned heavily into Rapunzel, who staggered underneath her. Finally she managed to hold her own weight, though it was only Rapunzel’s continued tugging that urged her to walk. The journey from the field to the house had never felt so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit longer than usual!! I hope y'all enjoyed it :3
> 
> ~ ~ ~
> 
> 1\. I'm not sure if this was obvious in the chapter, but in this universe centaurs are actually very aware of other people's emotions, which comes from being very observant of physical tells. this is pulled from horse behavior and psychology; they're extremely sensitive to the physical tells of a person's feelings and energy (when riding, an important part of steering a horse is staying calm and confident, and looking at the place you want to go). So while the discomfort Cassandra feels in this chapter is in fact felt by all the characters involved, she's feeling it at a much higher intensity. 
> 
> 2\. I feel like it's important to tell y'all that I use the measurements 'foot' and 'inch' in this chapter NOT because I am a lazy American who just used the standard measurement system, but because a 'foot' and 'inch' are also measurements in Imperial units, which was the measuring system used in Britain during the time period of this story (also yes, the standard and imperial foot/inch are the same length)
> 
> And of course, thanks so much to Laika for reading over and helping me refine this chapter!!


	4. The Cough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little late on this one, but it is TECHNICALLY still sunday

_'“My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me._

_“Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak._

_“What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?_

_“I never know what you are thinking. Think.”'_

_~ TS Eliot, 'The Waste Land'_

♟ ♟ ♟

By the time they reached the barn, the air was thick and saturated with raindrops.

After finagling the wet door latch into opening, Rapunzel brought them into the dry, cozy half of the barn where the goats and farm tools lived. Cassandra stumbled against the milking stand, which was just the right height to serve as a good armrest. She could hear Rapunzel’s almost equally laboured breaths as she rummaged around, though the constant roar of rain on the rooftop nearly drowned them out.

A lamp was lit, and Rapunzel emerged from behind a stall divider with one of her father’s old coats. Before Cassandra could work up the breath to ask what she was going to do with it, Rapunzel tossed it over her back and started rubbing in big circles. 

“Raps,” Cassandra protested, “come on, I can do that myself, and you need to change––”

“No, I don’t,” Rapunzel growled, “and you are going to stand right there until I’m done.” It was so rare for her to speak in such a stern manner that Cassandra blanched, and didn’t protest again. Instead, she focused on trying not to fall over under Rapunzel’s forceful motions. It was a much more difficult task than it should have been. 

Rapunzel peeled Cassandra’s ruined shirt off her body and worked the dampness out of her skin and coat methodically, occasionally pausing to flip or fold it to a cleaner, drier side. For a little while, the only sounds in the barn were the rain and the soft creaking of the rafters. Once Cassandra’s brain began to defrost and dry out, she noticed that Rapunzel’s fingers were shivering against her side. 

“Raps, please. I’m dry enough now. Go change.”

Rapunzel frowned, but tossed the old coat aside. “Fine.” She made it halfway to the side door before whirling around and jabbing a finger at Cassandra. “Don’t. Move.” She spun on her toes and slipped through the door with the grace of a cat, and Cassandra was left to deal with the whiplash of that interaction.

When she returned she was clad in one of Cassandra’s nightshirts; it hung down nearly to her knees and her hair was still wet and muddy, but at least her body was dry. She came bearing a new shirt for Cassandra as well, but when Cassandra set about buttoning it up her fingers trembled embarrassingly on the buttons.

Immediately, Rapunzel stepped forward. “Here, let me help.”

“No,” Cassandra grumbled, crossing the two sides of the shirt firmly over her chest, “I’ve got it.”

Rapunzel sighed in exasperation. “Cass––”

“ _I’ve got it,_ Rapunzel,” she repeated, and Rapunzel tossed her hands in the air before turning around to wait. She stood stiff and straight, pretending not to be impatient.

Cassandra huffed and, ever so slowly, fumbled the buttons into place. “You can turn around now,” she said.

Rapunzel’s posture immediately dropped when she whipped around. “Finally!” She sighed, before snatching a bucket of leaked rainwater from the floor and a wet rag from the workbench. She spent a great deal of time wiping Cassandra’s legs down with cold water, which Cassandra personally felt was incredibly redundant. Unfortunately, Rapunzel was just as stubborn as she was. Whenever Cassandra pulled her foot away, Rapunzel grabbed it and pulled it back. Cassandra got her little revenge, however, when Rapunzel moved within range of her tail. She managed the energy to snicker at the indignant yelps she received when it stung against its target.

After half an hour or so, the numbness in Cassandra’s legs had given way to a desolate ache that promised to linger. Her joints throbbed and her gaskin muscles felt as if they were slipping around beneath her skin, and her spine ached where the back pad had pressed into it. The collar had left two neat, bloody sores on her hip bones, and though Rapunzel did her best to clean them out they still burned like wasp stings. 

Cassandra rested her head on her fists, leaning heavily on an old desk as Rapunzel whisked a handful of straw across her almost–dry coat. Now that the job of plowing the field was done and her brain was at the halfway point between ice and mush, Cassandra’s mind began running through the laundry list of worries she’d locked down and forced away beforehand–– plus a few new ones. 

Plowing the field in and of itself was dangerous and stupid, of course, but plowing the field in the mud was even moreso. Either one of them could’ve been seriously injured. They weren’t, but they could have been, and just the recklessness of it alone could bring the wrath of Rapunzel’s parents down on her like never before. 

“This was a terrible idea,” she groaned.

Rapunzel snorted. “I could’ve told you that. In fact, I _did_ tell you that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. That doesn’t help––ow!” Cassandra yelped as one of Rapunzel’s bits of straw jabbed into the sore on her left hip.

“Sorry!” Rapunzel reeled back, holding the straw close to her chest as if she’d been caught stealing cookies from the kitchen.

Cassandra huffed. “I’m dry, Raps, it’s fine. Maybe _you_ should go take a bath. You know, like how you’ve been refusing to for the last hour.”

Rapunzel tossed her bundle of straw to the ground and crossed her arms. “Well _excuse me_ for wanting to make sure my best friend didn’t die of hypothermia!”

“Believe it or not, I know how to use a towel. You don’t have to keep babying me!”

Rapunzel arched a stern brow and Cassandra groaned. She rolled her eyes and collapsed more heavily onto the desk, which moaned beneath her. “Ugh, fine. You win. But I’m dry now, so go. Shoo.” She fluttered her fingers half-heartedly.

Just as Rapunzel opened her mouth to retaliate, there came a distant _cre-e-e-ak_ from the front gate. 

Both of them froze. Cassandra coiled her aching muscles, but Rapunzel beat her to it and ran up to peek through the space between two wooden slats. “Ohhhh no, it’s my parents.”

Cassandra’s heart sank into the pit of her stomach. “What? They were supposed to be out all day!”

“Well…. They’re here.”

“Shit,” Cassandra grumbled, ignoring Rapunzel’s offended hiss. She straightened up and ran a hand through her damp, tangled hair. “I…. really didn’t think this part through.”

“What?” Rapunzel turned to face her. “But you think everything through!” 

Cassandra’s flank twitched. “Well not this, okay? I never think stupid ideas through because if I think them through then the ideas won’t work!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Rapunzel cried.

“It makes complete sense!”

“It really doesn’t!”

Cassandra huffed and crossed her arms, Rapunzel worried her lip between her teeth. “Okay then! This is fine! We’ve got about ten minutes before––”

“––before your dad comes looking for us and kicks me out for putting his daughter in danger,” Cassandra finished for her.

“ _No,_ Cass, my parents wouldn’t––”

“You don’t know that,” Cassandra whirled on her with a snarl, and as she did so her right foreleg gave and she stumbled to her knees. The impact was rattling enough to roll her all the way over.

“Cass!” Rapunzel scrambled to help her, and Cassandra slapped her hand away. 

“ _Ugh,_ I’m fine! We just need to––”

“Rapunzel?” Cassandra’s eyes shot to the door as it jangled and whined on its hinges. Frederic pushed it open and squeezed himself in, closing his umbrella outside the barn before pulling that in too and gently re-latching the door. When he turned and saw them, his face blanched. Cassandra could only imagine how they looked to him–– wet and bedraggled and crouching on the floor.

Rapunzel smiled nervously and waved. “....Hi, dad.”

Frederic’s brow furrowed. “What on earth is going on here? Rapunzel, why is your hair all wet?”

“Well,” Rapunzel giggled anxiously and clasped her hands together. “You see, ah, funny story––”

“Frederic!” Arianna came peeking in through the door. “The field, it’s––” Her eyes were wide, and her gaze slid down to Cassandra and Rapunzel, who were still frozen on the floor. She put her hands on her hips. “ _What_ did you do?”

♟ ♟ ♟

When Rapunzel had finished shakily explained what they had done to her parents, the reaction was immediate. The Der Sonnes had never been ones for yelling, but in a way their solemn voices were much worse–– Cassandra could handle yelling. She never knew what to do with this.

Frederic’s rumbles of “what were you thinking?” and Arianna’s stern “do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” made Cassandra cringe, but Rapunzel seemed determined to stand her ground. 

“We did it, didn’t we?” She cried. 

“Yes, but it was foolish,” Frederic growled. “We told you not to even try––”

“You thought it was a good idea yesterday!”

“I thought it was _an_ idea, not a good one,” Frederic corrected.

“Both of you, stop it!” Arianna’s raised voice brought a halt to the budding argument. She leaned down to rest one hand on each of their shoulders, and when she met Cassandra’s eyes her gaze was deep and pleading. “I admire your bravery. Really, I do. But I want you both to promise me you will _never_ try something like that again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Cassandra mumbled. Rapunzel crossed her arms over her chest, but when her mother met her eyes she reluctantly nodded.

With the initial shock settled, Arianna took Rapunzel up for the hot bath she had thus far denied herself. Frederic sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before asking Cassandra to stand up. She obeyed the request, and Frederic carefully checked her hooves and joints for swelling before pronouncing her unfit for any activity aside from resting–– which for once, Cassandra didn’t have any objection to. Frederic’s quiet, stoic anger seemed to have simmered down into reluctant pride, and after many minutes of silence he spoke. “I am impressed, Cassandra. I will not lie to you and say that I am glad for the harm you and my daughter brought upon yourselves, but…. I am proud.” 

The praise warmed her more thoroughly than the blanket he tossed over her back ever could.

After Frederic left the barn to bring in the goats from where they were likely huddled under a great fir tree, Cassandra stepped into her room through a side door. The warmth of her bed, the exhaustion which permeated her body and mind, and the soft pattering sound of rain on wood sent her to sleep almost immediately.

At four o’clock in the morning, she was jolted awake with a wet, hacking cough.

At five o’clock in the morning, Arianna came to inform her that Rapunzel had developed a sniffle. When Cassandra informed her hoarsely of her own predicament, she didn’t seem at all surprised.

The cough persevered throughout the day, though perhaps it was not quite as annoying as the fever which developed quickly after. Arianna decided to bring her into the house and set up a space for her in the living room, so that they could keep a close eye on her. Rapunzel, it seemed, had come down with a similar condition, so they brought her down as well and jokingly dubbed it ‘the quarantine room’.

The quarantine room was supposed to be sectioned off with one half for each of them, but over the next few days the entire space quickly devolved into an amorphous slough of blankets and pillows. Despite Cassandra’s weak insistence that Rapunzel not come near her while she was sleeping, more often than not they awoke tangled together and drenched in one another’s sweat. 

The whole ordeal was sticky and gross, and both of their noses quickly became sore and rash-red from constant wiping. By the third day, the two had settled into a miserable routine. They woke up snuggled together, and Cassandra tried and failed to unstick Rapunzel from her side. Arianna came in with broth twice a day and a change of clothes. In the evenings she brought a wash basin and helped them wash their faces.

By mid-afternoon on the fourth day, the illness had made the both of them impatient.

Rapunzel groaned and settled back against the wall with a thump. “This is…..”

“The worst?” Cassandra wheezed.

“Yeah,” Rapunzel murmured hazily, “yeah, that sounds right.”

“Ugh,” Cassandra sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve, “this needs to be _over._ ” The last time she’d been sick like this, Cassandra had been twelve years old and working as a papergirl. One too many chilly mornings had gotten to her, and she remembered stumbling off her route and getting lost before her memory blacked out. When she woke up from the feverish daze she was curled up in an alley and, as she found out upon inquiry with one of the girls she had been working with, fired. It wasn’t an experience she had ever been keen on repeating.

“You can say that…. again,” Rapunzel mumbled. She curled herself deeper into Cassandra’s side and tucked her blanket up closer to her chin, and when she spoke her words were slurred. “When I was little, my m–– the woman who raised me….she used to say that I could never––” she sniffled loudly–– “go into Old Corona, because I would catch the plague.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened. She didn’t know much about Rapunzel’s past, only that she’d been adopted by the Der Sonnes when she was nine and, prior to that, had never left her home in the woods. That had certainly explained some things to nineteen-year-old Cassandra, who couldn’t imagine why she seemed so ceaselessly enamoured with the townspeople and their lives. Over the last three years she’d learned Raps’ early childhood hadn’t been great, but Rapunzel never talked about it. The times she allowed the topic to be discussed at all without changing the subject were few and far between. She _never_ brought it up on her own.

Rapunzel sniffled. “For _years_ after she died I was….I was afraid I would catch it from the townspeople. The plague. And….and the funny thing is that even after….after all that, the thing that made me really sick was a bit…. of rain.”

Cassandra decided not to comment on the extremely personal information she’d just been given, and squeezed Rapunzel’s shoulder. “To be fair, it was more than a little bit of rain.”

Rapunzel sniffled. “Back then I was always so….uncertain. Once I learned how much I’d been lied to, I felt….I felt like I couldn’t trust anyone. But I _wanted_ to trust people. It was like….it was like I never knew––” she paused to cough–– “I never knew where I stood in it. In the world. I was always scared. And I feel….I feel like that again, now. With the. The things. Atkinson.” Her voice trailed into gravel and she coughed, slouching into Cassandra with a moan.

Cassandra bit her lip and held Rapunzel closer. She knew what that was like. “Raps….this farm….it’s only a house. I’ve lived in so many places before and….the only things that matter in the end are the people who are there to pick you up after you’ve lost everything.” Normally she wouldn’t get so personal with her advice, but the words sloughed past her lips like dribbling honey. “That’s what….that’s what you and your family did for me. And I’d do it for you.”

Rapunzel sniffed and cleared her throat. “....Thank you, Cass.” Her voice sounded hollow and gravelly, but Cassandra could feel the genuine relief in the way her fingers clutched a little tighter at her shirt.

“Any time, Raps.”

Rapunzel didn’t speak again for a long time, and Cassandra was fine with that. Her throat was sore. They laid together in silence, and Cassandra was fairly sure Rapunzel had fallen asleep.

“Mr. Atkinson is so mean to you.”

Cassandra blanched, startled. “What?”

“He is.” Rapunzel coughed, and reached for a nearby glass of water. “I don’t like it.” She paused to drink. “The Smiths and Lyonses are mean to you too.”

“What….Where is this coming from, Raps?”

“They’re never mean to me. Even when I was ten and called Mr. Lyons scary to his face, he wasn’t mean to me.”

“Maybe you’re just a more likeable person,” Cassandra murmured.

“But you’re likeable too,” Rapunzel protested. “I like you. A lot.” 

Cassandra’s chuckle turned into a coughing fit, and when she recovered she saw Rapunzel staring at her with big, fever-drunk eyes. “Not everyone’s you, Raps. A lot of people don’t like me, and––” she tried and failed to suppress a wheeze–– “wouldn’t like me even if I was as friendly as you.”

Rapunzel snuggled her head under Cassandra’s chin, and Cassandra wrapped an arm around her shoulder. They remained there in pensive silence for a minute, and when Rapunzel spoke her voice was soft and quiet. “It’s because you don’t….don’t look like us, isn’t it?”

Cassandra stiffened, and Rapunzel’s nose brushed against her jawline. “Cass?”

“....Yeah. It….it is.”

But there was more to it than that, wasn’t there? The factory managers who had given her longer hours because ‘she’s half horse, she can handle it’, the store owners who refused to give her a job because ‘she’s eight feet tall and six feet long, she’ll break something’. The farmers who looked her up and down and felt entitled to manhandle her feet and legs before proclaiming her ‘no good’ and sending her on her way.

Cassandra lived in a world that saw her hooves before her face, and even if this little farm acted as her private haven against that world, sometimes it still came to break down her door. Just to remind her what it thought of her.

Rapunzel hummed, and played sleepily with the little curly spot on Cassandra’s withers. Her skin was hot and clammy. “Well, I think you’re pretty. And strong. And brave.”

Cassandra snorted and coughed. “Uh….thanks, Raps.”

As if the silly compliment could fix everything that had ever been broken inside Cassandra, inside the few weary centaurs she’d worked beside in the past. As if those few words could right the wrongs of the world. It was childish, but it was sweet, and Cassandra felt a little warmth bloom within her regardless.

Rapunzel’s eyelashes shifted against Cassandra’s neck, and her breaths came slow and even. Cassandra carefully unstuck her from her person, and laid her down in the blanket nest. She fixed her own shirt before rolling slowly onto her side, heaving a slow breath.

The words of the conversation rolled in her head like slip, staining every thought with fragments of words. After what seemed like an eternity she managed to find an empty space amid the chaos, and drifted off.

Cassandra’s dreams were fragmented. Memory merged with reality–– the light of the dim oil lamp flickered into the roar of a fireplace; the hazy vision of a wet rag held in Arianna’s hand became the specter of an ashwood cane. Throughout the long-suffering wakeful dreams there was always something _wrong_ –– an itch Cassandra couldn’t quite scratch, a crack in the fabric of her reality. Occasionally she felt the floor fall out from beneath her, but she didn’t have the energy to startle.

She laid paralyzed as the world spun circles around her, and time stretched on into nothingness.

_Tick-tock,_ said a nearby pocket watch.

_Tock._ But no tick.

_Tock._ Cassandra’s senses faded out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! I had a rough go of writing this one and I'm not sure I love it, but hopefully nobody was too disappointed XD
> 
> And, ofc, huge thanks to Laika for reading this over and helping me fix some of the clunky bits!


	5. The Summer Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed a few minor things in previous chapters to fix the timeline a bit, so if something in this chapter doesn't match up with something you read previously, you might want to check and see if it was changed (all the fixes are. very minor XD you probably won't notice)
> 
> Also YES I know this is half an hour late, my apologies.

_'Now, God be thanked who has matched us with his hour,_

_And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping!_

_With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power,_

_To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping,_

_Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary'_

_\- Rupert Brooke, 'Peace'_

♟ ♟ ♟

The illness finally began to pass on Monday afternoon, just over a week past its onset. 

Upon regaining coherency, Cassandra and Rapunzel were filled in on what they’d missed (or had been told about and later forgotten). Cassandra learned that while she and Rapunzel were delirious with fever, Frederic had gotten Mr. Atkinson to come up and see for himself the work they’d done. If his and Arianna’s bright, amused smiles were any indication, his blustering must have been truly impressive. Cassandra regretted that she’d missed it.

Pascal kept the two of them company for a few hours every day, and after spending over a week cuddled up next to him, Cassandra decided he wasn’t _quite_ as unnerving as she had previously thought–– which was to Rapunzel’s immense delight. His hiss was still creepy though. Cassandra really didn’t like that hiss.

Frederic had sown turnip seeds in the lower field while Cassandra and Rapunzel were sick. He was optimistic about the harvest, and told them that the tossed-up soil had turned out to be rich and warm–– perfect conditions for growing crops. With Atkinson off their backs for the time being, the family quickly settled back into the thrifty comfort they had become accustomed to. The tension in the air finally dissipated, and to Cassandra it felt as if the halls had suddenly opened up around her.

Cassandra vaguely remembered some syrupy, fever-glazed slivers of conversation she’d had with Rapunzel while they were ill–– and if Rapunzel’s flushed face whenever they made eye contact was any indication, she remembered some of them too. Cassandra shuddered to think about what she might’ve said that she _didn’t_ remember. She made a point of avoiding the topic whenever possible.

Rapunzel had bounced back from her illness the way she did from all things that wore her down, and was soon up and running with frightening cheer again. Although Cassandra’s back remained sore, she also had begun to feel much more herself. The sores on her hips had scabbed over, and hopefully it was only a matter of time before new fur grew over the flaky grey skin.

By Wednesday morning, the two of them felt more or less completely normal. Cassandra was still under a strict mandate from Arianna to work lightly (as if her work hadn’t been pathetically light enough already), but she’d been moved back to her own room at least, and she could walk now without wobbling. A persistent cough still stuck in her throat, but it was a dry cough and none of the family was terribly worried about it. Cassandra, for one, was just happy to be up and moving again–– and at least her light load mandate didn’t extend to milking the goats. 

On this particular Wednesday morning, when Cassandra walked into the barn she found a cut on Milly’s leg–– most likely from jamming herself on a sharp bit of wood. Frederic had to stay home and tend to it, so Arianna tasked Cass and Rapunzel with the weekly chore of bringing milk to the grocer. Well, more specifically she tasked _Rapunzel_ with bringing milk to the grocer, and Cassandra had decided to tag along for moral support.

Rapunzel had griped and groaned her way into Cassandra’s room upon receiving the news, flopping onto the mattress with a final moan. After wheedling an explanation out of her, Cassandra had snickered and smacked her back lightly with a towel. “You’re letting him get to you, Raps.”

“I know,” Rapunzel whined into the fabric, “and I hate it. Also him. Well I don’t _hate_ him, but––”

Cassandra had leaned down and ruffled her hair, effectively cutting her off. “Go put on a nice dress, Raps.” She tugged the back of her wrinkled nightgown as prompting. “Go on! I’ll come with you.”

“....Fine.”

After Rapunzel stomped out the door, Cassandra shrugged on her own smart tweed vest–– it wasn’t really customary clothing for mares, but decent centaur dresses were damn hard to find and she was more comfortable in “men’s” clothes anyway. After ruffling her hair into an acceptable state of mess, she stepped outside to wait by the gate. After a minute Rapunzel stepped out the farmhouse door with her crate of milk bottles, dragging her feet all the way across the yard. Cassandra couldn’t hold in an amused snort.

The day was warm and soft, and the hedge-lined fields of the countryside shimmered the bright, swollen green of summer. Rapunzel carried the jars of milk, a task that would typically be relegated to Cassandra if her friend was not so viciously stubborn about keeping her away from work. Cassandra’s frequent protests were met with hums of indifference as they made their way into town.

The parish of Old Corona was a city in miniature, packed with tight little storefronts and threaded through with sheep canals that dated back at least four centuries. The town was old as dirt, easily old enough to be some ruin on a roadside–– but it had continued to thrive throughout the ages and didn’t seem to have any intention of quitting now. If you were to follow its tight, straw-strewn dirt pathways to their ends, you would be released into a little cobblestone-paved marketplace. On the left of the little courtyard stood Old Corona Church with its cramped belfry; on the right stood a proud auction block, which was surrounded by animal corrals. The newsboard was there, as was the shoemaker’s shop and the blacksmith.

That area of town was always painfully crowded, and the influx of chattering people headed that way promised that today it would be even more so than usual. Thankfully, the grocer’s shop was a few left turns out of the way of downtown. Cassandra and Rapunzel picked their way through a side street and ducked into the wide, friendly alley where the grocery was located, just opposite _Attila the Bun_ bakery. The street had been fondly dubbed ‘Foodstuff Alley’ due to the warm smells which constantly emanated from both shops. It wasn’t exactly an ideal location for marketing, but the places were in enough demand that location wasn’t an issue. 

As they approached the two shops, Rapunzel tried to wheedle her way into getting Cassandra to bring the milk to the grocery while she went and said hi to Attila. 

“Face your fears, princess,” Cassandra chuckled, steering her stubbornly away.

Rapunzel’s cheeks puffed. “I am not _afraid_ of him! Also….princess?”

Cassandra chose to ignore that last question. “Coulda fooled me, Raps. Come on.”

“Cass, wait––”

“Nope!” Cassandra gave her a shove, and they were facing down the doorway to the grocery. 

The shop itself was neat and tidy, with a pretty blue door frame and a clean sign hanging on the wall. On the sign, written in elegant hand, was the shop’s name: _Monty’s Grocery and Sweet Shoppe_. The thatched roof dipped low and the windows were somewhat fogged, but it was one of the nicer-kept shops in Old Corona. Rapunzel stopped at the threshold and heaved a massive sigh before straightening up, running a hand through her hair, and stomping through the door. The pretty tinkling of a doorbell followed her inside. The door was too low for Cassandra, so she instead ducked her head into the window and settled there, resting her forearms on its frame. 

The inside of the shop was even nicer than its exterior, kept meticulously clean and decorated here and there with jars of flowers or lollipops. Elegant ribbons spanned the high, grocery-stocked shelves, and two polished wooden chairs sat by the far wall. Rapunzel dropped her crate heavily onto the counter, and there was a bustling sound from the back room.

“I’ll be just a moment!” Called an airy voice, and Rapunzel huffed, rolling her eyes and mouthing along to his words. Cassandra snorted, earning herself a sharp glare. 

“You’re distracting me!” Rapunzel hissed.

“From _what?_ ”

Rapunzel just growled and stomped her foot. It was amazing how even just the sound of Monty’s voice could send her into a quiet, simmering rage.

“Apologies for the wait!” Called the voice again, and the door to the back room swung open. The short, jovial old man who bustled out of it didn’t look like he could be _anyone’s_ nemesis–– and neither did Rapunzel, for that matter–– which made their rivalry all the more hilarious to watch. Rapunzel had, apparently, been tasked with re-painting the sign at the town’s entrance when she was fifteen. Monty, who was as staunch a traditionalist as any general of the mounted cavalry, hadn’t been too pleased with her flowery design. Ever since, the two friendliest people in town had been nursing a deep, relentless grudge toward each other.

Sometimes Cassandra wanted to scream at Rapunzel that she should quit and have more respect–– Monty was being _more_ than generous by buying milk from them when he could easily get it elsewhere, likely with double the quantity for the same price. But the rivalry was one of her few sources of amusement, so Cassandra endured the niggling discomfort of her instinct and didn’t press the issue.

As soon as Monty’s eye caught Rapunzel, he scowled. “Rapunzel.”

Rapunzel narrowed her eyes. “Montgomery.”

For a moment they stood in tense, combative silence, and Cassandra cleared her throat awkwardly. Monty turned to her, and instantly his expression brightened. “Oh, Cassandra! It’s so good to see you! I heard about what you did the other week–– truly remarkable! I hope you and your family aren’t too shaken up by the ordeal.”

Cassandra smiled. “Nah, Raps and I were just doing what we had to do. We paid for it with a cold, though.” Her throat itched, and she coughed into her sleeve.

Monty’s mustache tipped downward. “Oh, that’s too bad! Here, let me give you a little jar of honey to take home with you. Oh! And I haven’t gotten a chance to ask–– did you enjoy the sugar sticks I sent you home with last month?”

Cassandra’s eyes darted to the side. She hadn’t cared for the excessive sweetness and so had given the sticks to Rapunzel, but she figured Monty didn’t need to know that. “Uhm….yep! They were great, thank you for giving them to me. Also you really don’t have to send us back with hon––”

Monty waved his hand dismissively. “It’s no trouble! No trouble at all!” He beamed at her under his mustache as he maneuvered out from behind the counter to pluck a small honey jar off the shelf. “And I’m so glad you enjoyed the sugar sticks! Here, I’ve still got some left––” he reached with thick, nimble fingers into a nearby tin and pulled out three little bundles of neatly-wrapped cloth and held them and the honey out to Cassandra.

She took the treats with a tenuous smile and pushed them into the pocket of her vest. “Thank you so much, Monty.”

“Please, call me Uncle Monty,” the old man said, “everyone does.” He side-eyed Rapunzel, a silent _‘except for her’._

“Ahem!” Rapunzel crossed her arms and tapped her foot, glowering at Monty. “My parents sent us to bring you milk.”

Monty returned her glare, and when he spoke his voice was deadpan and gravelly. “How very kind of them.”

“I’ll tell them you said so.”

Monty took the eight milk bottles, checked them over, and gently placed them in his icebox. Then, he pulled eight empty bottles from behind the counter–– last weeks’ supply. They were impeccably cleaned, and their necks were wrapped with little wicker bows. “From last week,” he grumbled. 

Rapunzel took the bottles roughly from his hands and placed them in her crate. When Monty took a handful of shillings from his register and wrapped them in a cloth, he turned to drop the bundle into Cassandra’s hands instead of Rapunzel’s. He closed her fingers around the pouch and patted the back of her hand. “You have a good day, sweetie. Enjoy those sugar sticks, and a spoonful of honey a day will help soothe that cough of yours!”

Cassandra nodded and smiled. “Will do. Thanks, uncle Monty.”

The old man beamed, and Rapunzel glared. 

As soon as they left the shop, the grilling began. “ _Uncle Monty?_ Really? I thought you were on my side!”

Cassandra unwrapped a sugar stick, tasting it experimentally. It was okay in small doses. “I am not on _anyone’s_ side.” She smirked. “Well, that’s not true. I’m on the side of whoever gives me food.”

Rapunzel screamed under her breath, like a kettle left too long to boil. “You don’t even like those sticks!”

Cassandra crossed her arms and waved the stick in Rapunzel’s direction. “True, but it’s fun to watch you get flustered about it.”

Rapunzel stomped ahead, tossing her hands up in the air and grumbling. Cassandra tuned her out and grabbed a newspaper from a passing paperboy, who seemed in quite a hurry to get to downtown. When she saw his dirty, patchy clothes she tossed him two shillings instead of the typical one; she knew firsthand how a little extra money could save a kid’s night.

The paperboy smiled and tipped his hat, and Cassandra tucked the paper into her vest to read later. She trotted to catch up with Rapunzel, who didn’t seem to notice she’d fallen behind. 

♟ ♟ ♟

Immediately upon reaching the house, Rapunzel dropped the crate of empty bottles on the kitchen table. She proceeded to hurry upstairs. Cassandra barely had time to put away the clean bottles and drop the bundle of shillings on the table before Rapunzel returned, stuffing a few jars into a satchel which hung from her shoulder. “I’m going for flowers!” Rapunzel announced. She stomped toward the door and Cassandra groaned.

“Raps, you have _got_ to stop letting Monty get under your skin.”

“I am not letting him get under anything!” Rapunzel blustered, “I..... just need more flower petals to make more paint! Right now.” Her voice dropped intensely on the last bit, and Cassandra sighed.

“Wait for me I guess,” she grumbled, following Rapunzel back out the door and into the sunny clearing.

On their way out Rapunzel filled her jars with water from the pump, and then together they made their way to the Farmer Jenkins’ field.

Farmer Jenkins’ field was bordered by the great cedar forest in the south and Hobbinses’ Moor in the east. The true name of Hobbinses’ Moor was unknown to Cassandra and to everyone else in the county, and would likely stay that way until the Moor itself was gone. It was named for Old Man Hobbins, who, according to the local grandmothers, was often seen throughout the 1870s wandering the moor’s expanse with nothing but a donkey and a shovel. With the shovel he dug shallow holes wherever his addled mind saw fit, though the purpose of the donkey remained a mystery.

On a good day, Farmer Jenkins’ field was sunny and bright until the last dregs of sun had sunk over the distant sea. It was also completely unused by its owner or any tenants; abandoned by all but the red deer and those people who went there in search of a quiet moment. Due to these conditions, the field was a prime spot to find a variety of vibrant wildflowers–– and was one of Rapunzel’s favorite haunts.

Rapunzel led Cassandra through the field, and by the time they happened upon a patch of flowers she deemed satisfactory, the sun was just beginning to inch toward high noon. Immediately Rapunzel set to plucking the blossoms from the ground, stuffing bundles into Cassandra’s hands whenever she had pulled too many to hold on her own. She worked in agitated silence, and Cassandra rocked back to rest one of her hind legs as the minutes ticked by.

Finally, Rapunzel’s aggressive flower-picking slowed, and she seemed to decide she’d collected enough. She took them all in her arms and laid them on the ground beside her, then sat down cross-legged in the grass to begin carefully plucking petals from their stalks.

Cassandra laid down beside her, staring into the distant horizon for a few moments before reaching into her vest to pull out the newspaper she’d bought from the paperboy. She unfurled it before her and snapped it into shape. The headline of the first page caught her attention immediately.

**WAR DECLARED BY AUSTRIA.**

––––

HOSTILITIES COMMENCED

____

SEIZURE OF A SERVIAN

STEAMER

____

THE POWERS AND PEACE

––––

HOPES OF LOCALIZING HOSTILITIES

  
  


Cassandra read on for a minute, and whistled in surprise. “Whoa, did you hear about this?” 

Rapunzel looked up from her petal-plucking. “Hear about what?”

“It says here that Austria declared war on Servia yesterday.”

Rapunzel’s eyes widened. “Really? Why?”

Cassandra read on through the article. “Looks like Servia didn’t meet some of Austria’s demands for….” she squinted at the words, “‘suppression of the anti-Austrian propaganda, and the punishment of the accomplice of the murderers of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand.’ Damn, that’s a mouthful.”

Rapunzel arched a brow. “The murderers of who?”

“Franz Ferdinand.” Cassandra narrowed her eyes when Rapunzel continued to stare cluelessly at her. “The ass–– _jerk_ who got himself and his wife shot in Sarajevo last month. Raps, that was pretty big. Nobody would shut up about it for like a week.”

Remembrance dawned in Rapunzel’s eyes. “Ohhh yeah, I remember hearing dad say something about that. Also Cass, come on. Those aren’t very nice things to say about somebody.” 

“What? It’s true!” Cassandra shook her paper for emphasis. “The guy was insane, or at least that’s what everyone says. Anyway, the point is that it looks like Servia wouldn’t punish the guys who did it, so now Austria’s pissed off.”

Rapunzel frowned. “Enough to go to war?”

“Apparently so.”

“That seems….extreme,” Rapunzel murmured. “And scary.”

Cassandra shrugged. “Not _too_ scary. There’s a lot of skirmishes over there; I bet it all cools off soon. The paper says they’re trying to localize it, too. As long as Germany and Russia don’t get involved it’ll be fine, and even if they do the Kaiser wouldn’t want to fight King George anyway.” 

Rapunzel hummed. “Well, localization is good. I think.”

“For us? Definitely.”

Rapunzel hummed again, then plucked another flower petal and held it up to the light. “Cass, you have to try this–– it’s so pretty!”

Cassandra huffed. “Really, Raps? I’m talking about war, here! This is important stuff!”

“And I’m talking about flowers,” Rapunzel shot back, peeking from behind her petal. “Besides, you said yourself it wasn’t that big of a deal. Now come on, try it!”

Cassandra folded up the newspaper and tossed it to the side with a sigh. She plucked her own petal and twisted so that she could hold it up against the sun. Light burned through it like sun-stained seawater, catching on little ripples and veins of soft yellow. It _was_ pretty.

The moment was interrupted by a little yelp as Rapunzel stabbed herself on a thorn, and Cassandra tore her gaze from the petal. “Need any help with that?” 

Rapunzel huffed and shook out her hand. “Ah–– maybe. Hey, could you pass me that jar of water over there?”

Cassandra reached out and scooped the jar toward her. Rapunzel delicately dropped her petals into the water, then sealed it up with a metal lid. She then passed Cassandra a bundle of yellow flowers, and the two of them got started plucking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Cassandra; if only you had the gift of foresight
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are always very much appreciated! I'm worried that the pacing and emotional beats of this story might be awkward, so please let me know if anything feels off so I can try to fix it in the future!
> 
> ~ ~ ~
> 
> STORY NOTES:
> 
> 1\. The words of the newspaper article Cassandra is reading are directly copied from this actual article: https://blog.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/sites/9/2013/07/austria-serbia.jpg
> 
> 2\. I am intentionally mispelling 'Serbia' as 'Servia', because all primary sources I could find from 1914 spell it as Servia.
> 
> 3\. Any opinions in this story do not necessarily reflect my own XD; I try my best to reflect the cultural mindset which would exist in the setting and in the characters, not always the facts of the period. 
> 
> 4\. PLEASE KEEP IN MIND that I am doing my best with the resources and time I have to study the time period and the details of the setting-- please take my words with a grain of salt as I am very far from an expert on any of this, and if somebody has any corrections please let me know!


	6. Augst 5, 1914

_'Snow is a strange white word;_

_No ice or frost_   
_Have asked of bud or bird_   
_For Winter's cost._

_Yet ice and frost and snow_   
_From earth to sky_   
_This Summer land doth know,_   
_No man knows why.'_

_\- Isaac Rosenburg, 'On Receiving News of the War'_

♟ ♟ ♟

Germany and Russia did get involved.

By the morning of August fifth, Cassandra could only assume that the newspapers were experiencing record levels of sales. The war declarations spread like infectious disease or wildfire–– headlines blazed the newest ultimatums, and Cassandra’s previous dismissal of the conflict now felt painfully naive. 

For a couple days after that first declaration on the 28th, there had been quiet tension in the news and in the faces of the townspeople, but nothing new. And then, news of Germany almost simultaneously declaring war on Russia and France took the world by storm. There was only one more nation of the triple entente left out of the conflict now, and within a day, all eyes were on England. 

Even still, the idea of war felt distant, foreign. Less than a week ago the whole affair had been little more than a scrap of gossip, at least as far as Cassandra knew. Of course she was used to reading about wars–– there were always battles and rebellions in the colonies, but they had never seemed so close. It was terrifying, but exhilarating a way.

Frederic did his best to hide the papers from Cassandra and especially Rapunzel, claiming that it wasn’t the business of young ladies, but it was a vain effort. Talk of war was everywhere, and Cassandra secretly bought her own papers anyway. It was an easy task: the paperboys always came down from the journalism office in New Corona by Alduin Road, which was only a pasture and a stone wall away from the Der Sonne farm. 

Cassandra pored through every word and theorized out loud to Rapunzel about how events might progress–– knowing exactly what was happening and when helped her feel a little more in control of everything that was going on.

Rapunzel, however, didn’t seem quite so enthusiastic.

“Looks like just about all of England is calling for us to join the war, and I’m with them,” Cassandra said, puffing out her chest, “Germany’s gotten away with too much for too long.”

They were huddled together under the oil lamp in Cassandra’s room–– Rapunzel had been sleeping over quite regularly as of late, and Cassandra found that she didn’t mind. The cold half-light of morning pooled in the air around them.

Rapunzel arched a brow at Cassandra’s declaration. “Didn’t Austria start it?”

Cassandra huffed and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Austria- _ Hungary _ started it.”

Rapunzel sighed and her bottom lip poked out in a pout, but Cassandra forged ahead. “And yes, technically they started it, but they never would’ve had the guts if Germany hadn’t given them a blank check of support, and now we’re all going to pay the price sooner or later. Might as well jump in, stop them quick, and get it over with.”

“People die in war, Cass,” Rapunzel murmured. “There have to be better solutions.”

“People die every day, Raps! I, for one, would prefer to make it count and die for my country and the people I love, instead of curled up alone in an alley somewhere.”

Rapunzel winced, and grabbed the newspaper from Cassandra’s hands. “You’ve been reading these too much, Cass,” she chided, stuffing the bundle of paper under the mattress, “and besides, you have more options than ‘die in war’ or ‘die miserable’, you know. I know I would rather die quietly in my own bed than in agony on a battlefield.”

Cassandra reached down for her paper, but Rapunzel swatted her hand away. “Really, Raps? I bought it, it’s mine.”

“And right now, it’s in timeout.” Rapunzel smiled up at her, sickly sweet.

“I’m not five, Rapunzel!” 

Rapunzel snuggled down into Cassandra’s fur. “Could’ve fooled me,” she mumbled.

Cassandra growled and stood up, but all further attempts of reclaiming her stolen property were thwarted by Rapunzel’s surprisingly good reflexes. 

“Okay, fine,” Cassandra finally acquiesced, “maybe the whole dying part wouldn’t be great. But not everyone who fights a war  _ dies _ in it–– and wouldn’t it be amazing to travel all across the world, wherever the fighting takes you?”

“Minus the fighting,” Rapunzel groaned, burying her face in Cassandra’s abandoned pillow.

“But that’s the best part!” Cassandra lashed her tail. “I bet I’d be good at it, too.”

“Good at fighting?” Rapunzel emerged from her hiding place, brushed a few mussed hairs away from her eyes, and arched a brow. “Cass, you don’t even know how to hold a sword.”

Cassandra huffed, indignant. “Not  _ yet _ . But once I learn, those Germans had better look out.” She made a grand sweeping motion as if holding a sword, poking Rapunzel on the nose with her forefinger.

“Oh really?” Rapunzel smirked, and before Cassandra could retort she dove in close, jabbing Cassandra’s waist with two fingers. Cassandra shrieked and sprang into the air, stumbling back into the wall as she clutched her side. “Hey, that’s not fair!”

Rapunzel snickered, standing clumsily from the bed. She sank into a deep curtsy as Cassandra panted, lifting the hem of her wrinkled nightgown. “Forgive me, your almighty general-ness.”

Cassandra huffed, crossing her arms. “You can’t tickle me in a sword fight.” 

Rapunzel clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward and rolling playfully on her heels. “I think I just did.”

Cassandra stepped off the wall, arching her tail a bit. “Nope. As a general, I get to make the rules. And my rules say no tickling.” 

Rapunzel made an exaggerated salute. “ _ Yessir _ , general sir.” 

Her smirk was wicked, and Cassandra glared at her, unimpressed. “Someday I’ll be an actual general. I’ll have money and power and a big fancy office, and maybe–– if you apologize for being a jerk at arse-o’clock in the morning on August fifth, nineteen-fourteen–– I could buy you paints from France––”

Rapunzel scoffed. “Wouldn’t you get bored if you became some big war hero, Cass? Never doing anything except standing around looking angry and making speeches about how great war is?”

Cassandra rolled her eyes and grabbed her around the waist, and Rapunzel shrieked with laughter as she was spun in the air. “We could live like kings, Raps! Travel the world in the finest ships and stay in the grandest hotels, and we’d never have to worry about money or old plow-harnesses ever again!”

Rapunzel giggled as Cassandra set her down, gripping her forearms for stability. “And you’d have to wear a ridiculous uniform around all day, covered in fifty pounds of medals.”

Cassandra pushed her down onto the mattress, and Rapunzel’s protests dissolved into laughter as Cassandra fell beside her, instantly moving to tickle her sides. “I wouldn’t have to wear the uniform because everyone would know me–– just by my _face!_ ” She mustered the most serious expression she could, and Rapunzel snorted. 

“I thought you said–– I thought you said tickling was against the  _ rules! _ ” Her voice tapered off into a laughing fit as she wriggled under Cassandra’s hands.

“Only in sword fights,” Cassandra quipped, keeping her serious face as best she could. 

Rapunzel grabbed Cassandra’s cheeks, panting from laughter. “Well, you’d certainly be the cutest general in the war room.”

Cassandra felt her cheeks heat up, and Rapunzel shrieked as Cassandra dug her fingers deeper into her ribcage. “I am not cute––!”

Rapunzel giggled wildly. “I’m s–– Cass, stop it!–– ahah, I’m sure they’d all cower in fear at the s––sight of your pouty face!”

“I do not pout!”

“You do so!”

“No I don’t!”

“You’re doing it right now!”

Cassandra was momentarily stunned, and Rapunzel seized the opportunity to slip away. She grabbed for a nearby pillow and tossed it into Cassandra’s face. It hit its target with a soft _f_ _ woom _ , sending straw and feathers flying. Rapunzel giggled as Cassandra fumbled with the pillow and stood up, holding her new, fluffy projectile up threateningly. “I do not pout.”

Rapunzel propped herself up on her elbows, blowing a strand of her hair out of her face. “Says the mare who’s currently pouting.”

Cassandra raised the pillow higher in the air, and Rapunzel raised her hands in defense. “Alright, alright, you don’t pout!”

Cassandra tossed the pillow aside, satisfied, and stepped back. She watched, baffled, as Rapunzel stood from the bed, dusted herself off, and made for the door. Had she gone too far….? Cassandra reached out. “Wait, Raps, I didn’t mean to––”

Rapunzel opened the door, stepped on the threshold, and turned back to Cassandra with a positively deranged smirk. “Pouter.”

Cassandra would never admit to the enraged, throaty squeal which left her throat at that moment–– but it nearly sent Rapunzel into a fit. She laughed like a madwoman, hiking her skirt up to her knees and flying out the door. Cassandra lost precious seconds as she scrambled on the wood floor, and by the time she managed to fumble out into the freezing, fog-mired clearing Rapunzel was already tearing down the road; the open gate swinging wildly behind her. 

The wet, dark skies promised stormy weather, but Cassandra dropped her hocks anyway and lunged into motion, galloping after her quarry. Sharp morning wind blew in her face and laved through her hair, and Cassandra released her energy in a little buck as she sped up, lowering herself to the ground and stretching her legs as far as she could.

Rapunzel spared a glance over her shoulder, and shrieked when she saw Cassandra gaining on her.

“I’m faster than you!” Cassandra called, rapidly approaching Rapunzel’s retreating form.

Rapunzel's response flew back in Cassandra’s face, carried like needles on the chill: “Maybe! But can you do––  _ this?! _ ”

She skidded around a sharp turn in the path and vaulted over a crumbling stone wall, laughing breathlessly as she took off.

“ _ Shit, _ ” Cassandra breathed. The corner reared up out of the fog, and Cassandra dropped her hocks into the dirt. She tried to slow down, but she skidded out of the turn like a poorly-trained reiner and crashed on her side in the dirt, rolling over once and landing in the grass with a thump. The wind was knocked out of her for a moment or two, and she groaned as she made to pick herself up. 

“Cass!” Rapunzel’s footsteps stopped briefly as she realized what had happened, and then started up again–– this time coming closer. Cassandra grumbled a few choice words under her breath as she rolled up onto her barrel, dusting off her grass-stained shirt. Rapunzel skidded to her knees beside her, flailing with her hands. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to––”

“It’s fine, Rapunzel. I’m fine.” Rapunzel seemed to relax for a fraction of a second, then proceeded to help dust off Cassandra’s shirt.

“Are you sure? You can feel all of your legs ri––”

Cassandra heaved and stood up, and Rapunzel landed on her backside as she tipped away from her. Cassandra gave a mighty shake to clear the dirt off herself, then reached down to help Rapunzel up. “See? Totally fine.”

Rapunzel took her hand, but didn’t stop fretting. “No, no––I’m really sorry Cass, I shouldn’t have taken that turn, it was a stupid decision––”

Cassandra placed a firm finger on Rapunzel’s nose, instantly quieting her before she could go off on a tangent. “Hey, look at me.” Wide green eyes met her own, and Cassandra gripped Rapunzel’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault.”

Rapunzel blinked. “....Okay.”

She seemed to relax, just a bit. Even still, Rapunzel began fussing over Cassandra as soon as she was released. “Are you sure you’re fine? I think I see a scrape right here––”

Cassandra rolled her eyes, and Rapunzel yelped in surprise as she cantered off, just out of reach. “I’m fine, Raps! And I could have totally taken that turn, by the way!”

“You come back here!” Rapunzel cried, “I’m not finished!” She lunged wildly, and Cassandra spun to canter the other way. They cut each other off a few times, but finally Rapunzel stumbled on a bit of gravel and Cassandra raced off down the road past her. 

“If you wanna keep fussing, you’ll have to catch me!”

Rapunzel accepted the challenge with a fervent yell, and Cassandra didn’t stop to wait for her to catch up. Instead she snickered, maintaining a swift canter as she breezed down the hill. A crunching noise in the fog caught her attention, and she looked up to see the hazy vision of a paperboy on a bicycle–– the same one she’d run into the other day. He had two saddlebags thrown over the back of his vehicle, which were stuffed to the gills with the morning papers. He looked to be in quite a hurry; unusual for the typically sleepy-eyed children who would come down from the journalism office.

Cassandra slowed down, distracted for a precious few moments, and yelped as Rapunzel attacked her from the side, throwing her off balance. Rapunzel swung around to hook her arms over Cassandra’s shoulders, throwing her legs over her withers and hanging there like a circus monkey or an acrobat, dragging Cassandra’s torso low.

“Hah!” Rapunzel panted, “I caught you!” 

Cassandra flew to support Rapunzel’s back, stumbling to a stop with her legs splayed out. For a moment they were both very still and very close, panting from their efforts. Cassandra could see flecks of morning blue hiding in Rapunzel’s green eyes, and the cold, fog-filtered sunlight glowed on her face. A few strands of hair hung loose over her nose and cheekbones, and her cheeks were flushed with exertion. Her smile softened the longer Cassandra stared, and it was only when Rapunzel’s eyes flickered down dangerously low that Cassandra regained her senses. She pulled back, holding Rapunzel at arm’s length with a nervous cough.

Rapunzel seemed to remember herself as well, and hurriedly untangled herself from Cassandra’s torso. She hopped to the ground and the two of them stepped back from each other, flushing and warm despite the cold air. Cassandra noticed a shape in the corner of her eye, and turned to see the boy on his bicycle. He’d stopped at a crossroad, and was staring at them with wide eyes.

Cassandra lashed her tail and trotted over to the boy, who had the decency to look abashed. “You should learn to mind your own business, kid.” 

The boy nodded hastily, pulling his hat low over his eyes. “Y-yes ma’am.”

Cassandra huffed, satisfied, and turned to see his heaping stack of papers. “Anything interesting today?”

The boy’s face suddenly lit up, as if he’d just remembered something, and he reached to grab a paper from his bag. “It’s the war, ma-am–– England’s officially in it!”

Cassandra felt a cold lump form in her throat and plummet into her stomach. “Wait––what?”

“Just last night, or in the wee hours of the morning, more like–– the House of Commons declared it!” The boy held the paper out toward Cassandra. “One shilling, ma’am.”

Cassandra twitched the shock out of her body, and quickly searched a coin out of her chest pocket. She flipped it to the boy, who passed her the paper in return. He tipped his hat and sped away on his bike, just as Rapunzel came up beside Cassandra. “Who was he?”

“Paperboy,” Cassandra murmured distractedly, opening the paper.

Rapunzel bumped her shoulder into Cassandra’s hip. “I meant his  _ name. _ ” A pause, and Cassandra hummed her acknowledgement. Rapunzel huffed. “You know I get to keep fussing over you now, right?”

“Mhm,” Cassandra murmured, hardly paying attention. The paper’s headline popped bright and bold, on the left side of the page: 

**GREAT BRITAIN**

**DECLARES WAR**

**ON GERMANY**

______

SUMMARY

REJECTION

OF BRITISH ULTIMATUM

______

CHEERS IN 

LONDON

______

ALL EYES ON

NORTH SEA

  
  


“I’ll be damned,” Cassandra murmured. She felt as if she were standing at the edge of a great precipice–– a precipice she’d been on for a long while, but only saw what it was now that the fog had been burned away. Rapunzel, seeming to finally grasp the shift in her friend’s mood, swung up on Cassandra’s back to rest her chin on her shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Right here,” Cassandra said, pointing to the headline.

Rapunzel sucked in a breath. “Oh. Oh, wow.”

Cassandra read on hurriedly, aloud this time so that Rapunzel could hear. “ _ ‘Owing to the summary rejection by the German Government of the request made by His Majesty’s Government for assurances that the neutrality of Belgium would be respected _ ––’” Cassandra sucked in a breath. “Fucking Germany, that means they must’ve invaded Belgium.”

“What does that mean?” Rapunzel asked, clutching the front of Cassandra’s shirt.

Cassandra lashed her tail. “It means the Kaiser is as much a dumbass as he is an asshole. He’s already got a war on three fronts and he decides to pick a fight with us?”

Rapunzel seemed frozen for a moment, and finally Cassandra felt the moist chill seep into her. It was as if a bubble around the two of them had been popped, and the abject desolation of the morning air had finally been allowed to engulf them. Rapunzel slumped down, her hands sliding down to Cassandra’s waist as she sat heavy on her back. “.....what happens now?”

“What do you mean?” Cassandra asked absently, still trying to process the lines of text.

Rapunzel’s hands fisted in Cassandra’s shirt. “What happens now that we’re at war?”

“Well, I guess the army’s going to start recruiting first. They’ll be needing resources for the war; men and horses and––”

“Cass––”

“––and cavalry. Mounted and standing.”

“ _ Cass! _ ”

Cassandra turned her head rapidly. “ _ What, _ Raps?”

Rapunzel searched Cassandra’s eyes for a moment, then bit her lip. “I know what you’re thinking, Cass, and I want you to stop thinking about it.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, princess.”

Rapunzel sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, looking for a moment as old and weary as her father. “I know, Cass, I know. But you  _ can’t _ . It was fun to joke about, but this–– this is real, Cass.”

Cassandra glared back at Rapunzel. “Of course it’s real! Did you think I wasn’t serious before? This could be a real opportunity for me––”

“You could  _ die! _ ” Rapunzel’s expression snapped into ferocity as she grabbed the collar of Cassandra’s shirt. Cassandra found herself silenced by that uncharacteristically wild face, withering under that hard gaze.

Rapunzel seemed to realize what she’d done, and backed off immediately. For a moment her hands wavered in the air, before she dropped them to play with the fur on Cassandra’s withers. “I’m sorry, Cass–– but I can’t–– please, don’t even think about it. You have to–– you don’t  _ have _ to, but….but you must  _ want _ to stay here; this is your home!”

Before Cassandra could retort, she was interrupted by a heavy drop of rain on her nose. Almost immediately after, Rapunzel winced as one hit her head. Cassandra was forced to roll her paper and hide it in her shirt, lest it get completely soaked. One look at the roiling, black skies confirmed that this likely wouldn’t be a quick drizzle.

“Come on,” Cassandra grumbled. “I’ll take you home. Don’t want to catch  _ another _ cold.”

Rapunzel’s hands shook against Cassandra’s fur. “Yeah. Yeah, definitely not.”

Cassandra cantered back up the road, breaking into a gallop as the rain started to fall harder and fiercer. Rapunzel clung to her the whole time–– years of practice meant she couldn’t have needed it for balance anymore, but Cassandra didn’t quite have the heart to tell her to stop. Even with Rapunzel breathing almost in Cassandra’s ear, the brief journey home was much quieter than their wild run down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go >:3
> 
> Once again, massive thanks to Laika for reading over and helping me fine-tune this chapter!  
> \---
> 
> NOTES:
> 
> 1\. In this story, there are two types of cavalry. 'Mounted' is your traditional cavalry- humans on horseback. 'Standing' is centaur cavalry, and we'll get more into the specifics and history of it later on down the line!
> 
> 2\. I feel it important to inform you that Cassandra's 'squeal' in this chapter is rather more akin to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JiK2L_z9FrY than a human squeal
> 
> 3\. Once again, newspaper section taken from an actual newspaper; this time from the Daily Mail: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/5c/77/09/5c77091cb395aa3ab04d4bc409b84e08.jpg

**Author's Note:**

> If you are so inclined, come scream with me on Twitter (@/justatiredhorse) or Tumblr (@/empkinilly)


End file.
